Memoirs of A Diva: The Year 2000
by MizHyde
Summary: At the height of the Monday Night Wars, WCW wrestler Rinoa Fielder has signed a contract to become the newest Diva in the WWF. Rejoining her friends and allies on the other side of the fence, Rinoa also finds an unlikely friendship with the son of her new boss, but it isn't long before sparks begin to fly...
1. Jumping Ship

Chapter 1: Jumping Ship

* * *

I took a deep breath and struggled to steady my nerves as the taxicab rapidly approached my destination. Two days ago – July 24, 2000 – I turned twenty-three, and now, here I am, ready to receive the greatest birthday present, the final stop in the quest to achieve my childhood dreams. Sitting in the backseat of the cab, I stared out the passenger's side window, my head in my hand, watching the world pass me by with the wide-eyed wonder of a child. The cab slowed down, coming to the stop at the bottom of a dirt road lined with tall trees.

"This is your stop," the driver told me. He was a gruff fellow, with slicked gray hair he wore under an old, beat up Yankees cap. The glasses he wore were thick. He looked like the kind of guy who liked wearing slippers while he read the Sunday paper, the kind of guy who got irritated with kids skateboarding on the sidewalks or walking on his fresh mowed grass. I thanked him, searching through my black leather purse for my wallet, my gaze darting to the meter to see how much I owed him. I gave him the money.

"Keep the change." He looked at the bills in his hand. I saw his eyes widen in the rear-view mirror.

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. You have yourself a fabulous afternoon," I told him, opening the back door. In half an hour, another cab was going to be here to pick me up. I didn't think the meeting was going to take any longer than that. Shutting the door behind me, I stared at the long and winding road and momentarily regretted my decision to wear high heels. It was a sweltering day, bright blue with not a cloud in the sky or hint of a summer breeze. Behind me, the cab drove away and disappeared from my sight quickly, leaving me alone on the empty road.

Readjusting the strap of my purse over my shoulder, I began the trek up the road. My hands were shaking; the last time I recalled having such a bad case of nerves was my first match, against a women's wrestler named Princess Jasmine in a small bingo hall in Sacramento, California.

As I walked, I tried to ignore the feeling of being a traitor and a turncoat. Greenwich, Connecticut isn't my neck of the woods; my turf is Atlanta, Georgia, the home of World Championship Wrestling. This is Vince McMahon's territory, and the World Wrestling Federation has been at war with my place of employment since 1995. In WCW, we're supposed to be conditioned to believe that Vince is the enemy, but the reality is that I've wanted to be here ever since I was a little girl watching _WrestleMania IV_ with my father.

I signed with WCW on my twentieth birthday, at the insistence of Chris Jericho, one of my greatest friends ever. Chris had been with them for a couple of years and he felt like he was finally starting to gain some momentum. He'd managed to do it _without_ joining the New World Order, which is kind of a huge deal. I owe my WCW contract to Chris; he brokered the deal with company president Eric Bischoff. Back then, I was still so young and naive, and I was so content wrestling in Japan that Chris had been forced to work really hard to convince me to take the meeting with Eric.

The presentation Eric had given me was so impressive. He's a short and scrappy guy with black hair and a smug aura. He laid out a five-year plan about introducing a women's division and a championship. At the time I was living in Tokyo, wrestling some of the most _insane_ matches in front of the biggest crowds I've ever seen. I loved it over there, but Eric's promise of making me a pioneer of the WCW women's division was too good to pass up. With Miss Madness and Madusa, the three of us could build something really special, he told me. He wanted a women's division that was going to rival Vince's, who had only just reintroduced the Women's Championship.

I'm a little ashamed to admit that I let myself get spellbound by the presentation. After the meeting, I felt excited and apprehensive; I'd never wrestled on television for a major corporation before. Chris told me that this was the best thing I could do for my career; that I was going to open up all kinds of doors for myself in North America. I also thought about my mom and dad in Spokane, Washington, about how much they probably wanted to have their only child back on American soil, and I was sold. I packed my bags and moved home with Mom and Dad for a little while.

It didn't take long for me to realize that WCW was a toxic place, that Eric had a reputation for making all kinds of promises to all kinds of people and never coming through on any of them. Most of the talent had creative control clauses in their contracts, and they shut down nearly every pitch made to them. Instead of pioneering a women's division, I got paid a lot of money to either sit at home or hang out backstage. For two years I thought Eric would come through, and so I stayed behind while all my friends left the company in droves, to the greener pastures of the WWF, where they all became the stars WCW wouldn't let them become. Miss Madness – my friend Nora – left and became Molly Holly, wrestling competitive matches and getting involved with on-screen stories. As happy as I was for her, I was also extremely jealous; if I was lucky, sometimes I got caught on camera while Scott Steiner and Sting were brawling. In the past year, I've been forced to recognize that WCW is a sinking ship and that Eric Bischoff's promises mean nothing.

Chris left for WWF in the summer of 1999, and ever since, he's been on a campaign to get me to follow suit. Every time we've spoken in the last year, he would assure me that he was doing everything in his power to get me over here. Part of me wanted to believe him, but the constant disappointments in WCW had me feeling like I had hit a wall. I know thousands of people are trying to get into the WWF constantly, so I didn't think he could do anything like that for me, but I appreciated that he wanted to try. Eventually, I got a call from Jim Ross. Chris had shown some important people some of my work in Japan and they wanted to sign me.

As excited as I am to sign a WWF contract, I can't help but feel like I'm turning my back on the people who gave me a job in the States. There are whispers that WCW is in bad shape, that it may close with the Time Warner merger, and I don't want to end up out in the cold at the end of everything. Leaving is the best option, as hard as it is for my brain to accept that. I came back to North America to wrestle; at some point, I want to do that.

Chris told me first impressions are important to Vince, and he likes athletes that look professional, so I opted for business casual, dressed in a white button-down shirt with black slacks and a navy quarter-sleeve blazer. Tan heeled shoes and a three-tiered statement necklace finished the ensemble. I styled my mocha hair in soft waves around my face and kept the makeup to a minimum. It took a few tries to get my makeup to a point where I was happy with it, a lot of effort for the look that I'm not wearing any. The meeting is just a formality; I agreed to the terms a week ago, but Chris told me it's customary for all new talent to sign their contracts at Vince's house. It struck me as odd since I signed my WCW contract at the Turner building – I couldn't even tell anyone what Eric's house looks like because I've never been.

Every step I took, I felt my nervousness amplify. Vince has always been a larger-than-life character to me. The idea of working for him made me so nervous, but the female talents he had made me excited. He had Nora, and he had Lita and Trish Stratus and Chyna and Ivory. Granted, there are some things I'm not looking forward to – like the bra and panties match, or wrestling in gravy bowls and pudding – but sometimes a person has to take the bad with the good.

At the top of the road, I was greeted by the largest house I've ever seen in my life. The driveway was gigantic and filled with luxury cars. My stomach felt heavy taking in the fountain, and I fought the urge to get sick in the driveway. I'm not normally an anxious person, but this entire meeting has been set up in cloak and dagger style so Eric doesn't find out; I'd had to book a flight under another name, and while Vince offered me a limousine, I opted for a cab so that nobody caught wind of a WWF vehicle at the airport. It's been so hard feeling like I'm doing nothing wrong when I've had to be so careful with every step that I take.

I walked up the two steps, onto the small landing, and I took one last moment to steady myself before ringing the doorbell. I quickly checked my reflection in the side window, just to make sure there was nothing out of place and no lipstick on my teeth. When I was satisfied that I looked okay, I reached out and rang the doorbell. My heart jumped into my throat when I heard it echo through the house.

It was a few moments before the door opened, and I found myself standing face-to-face with Shane McMahon. He looked well put together, dressed in a black button down shirt rolled up to the elbows and dark blue jeans. Right away I found myself caught up in his eyes, in how big and brown and emotive they were; it was as if I could read every thought in his head by the way that his eyes shone. The smile he gave me put me at ease almost immediately. He extended his right hand for me to shake.

"Hello, Rinoa. It's a pleasure to finally meet you," he greeted. I shook his hand; his grip was firm and warm. "I'm Shane McMahon..."

"I know who you are," I told him, surprised at how timid my voice sounded in my ears. "I'm pretty familiar with your work. You're insane." The words came out of my mouth so quickly, and I instantly regretted them. If it bothered Shane, though, his face didn't show it.

"It appears my reputation precedes me," he said with a laugh. I felt the red-hot sting of embarrassment in my cheeks. He stepped to the side. "Come on inside. Everyone's waiting for you in the dining room."

Once I stepped over the threshold, into the house, the self-consciousness I felt seemed to increase tenfold. I was so very aware of every noise I made, including the sound of my heels on the wooden floor. Sliding out of my shoes, I noticed Shane smirk as I shrunk six inches in front of him. "How was your flight?" he asked.

"Good. It was smooth sailing all the way from Sacramento," I told him. I fell into step beside him, the two of us walking down the long hallway towards the dining area. When I walked in, right away I was struck by the who's who of names sitting around the giant dining table. John Laurinaitis, Bruce Pritchard, Michael Hayes and Jim Ross. It was strange to me to see JR without his trademark cowboy hat. The moment I stepped through the arch with Shane, all sets of eyes were on me and I instantly felt like the new kid in school. Shane cocked his head and I followed him towards the head of the table, where Vince sat. He saw me, smiled and stood. In the middle of the table were plates of brownies, glasses, and pitchers of lemonade. It looked like I had invaded a meeting.

"Rinoa!" Vince boomed, extending his hand. I shook it, doing my best to hide a wince at Vince's grip. Chris told me not to show fear in Vince's presence, but I'm sure the intimidation I felt was written all over my face. I shot a look over at JR, who had produced a folder with the WWF logo emblazoned on the front. My eyes swung back to Vince. "It's great to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you. Please. Have a seat."

"Yes, sir."

"Please. Vince." I nodded and took a seat between Michael and Bruce. Shane sat across from me, between JR and John. Michael offered me a glass of lemonade and poured it for me. I thanked him softly. The whole moment was so surreal. What struck me was the sight of Vince in a business suit inside of his own home. Over the years I've heard a lot of stories about Vince and his crazy work ethic, how he competes against himself over mundane things like growing a beard. "How was your flight?"

"It went well," I told him. John offered me a brownie topped with walnuts, which I had to decline because I'm allergic to walnuts and almonds. It's weird that I'm not allergic to every kind of nut, but I swell and it gets scary fast if I have those two. The plate was moved away from me.

"My son speaks very highly of your abilities, as does JR here," Vince told me. "I see your friend Chris has been buttering you up around here for a while now." I couldn't help but laugh.

"That sounds like Chris," I said. I've always been so thankful that Chris was willing to go to bat for me. When I was eighteen and a half and just getting started I met Chris. We were both in Berlin; he was doing a show just before he went to ECW and I was on the same card. The two of us hit it off immediately, bonding over a love of pro wrestling and rock music. I looked over at JR and realized the folder held my WWF contract. My heart skipped a few beats.

"Now, Ms. Fielder, I'm going to be blunt here, but I have to ask – since we agreed to the terms and conditions of this contract, have you signed or verbally agreed to anything with Eric Bischoff or anyone from WCW?" JR asked. I shook my head vehemently.

"No, not at all. Eric hasn't even come to see me about the contract he offered," I confessed. "Chris advised me not to sign anything until I spoke to you guys and once it became clear we were going to reach an agreement, I opted not to re-sign." While I spoke, I could feel Shane's eyes on me, like he was examining me, trying to figure out what I was all about. I wanted to return his stare, but I didn't want to make a bad first impression with Vince by eye balling his son. Every part of me was grateful for his presence at the table; the buttoned up and stern dispositions made me so nervous, but Shane's relaxed aura seemed to counterbalance all of that.

"When does your WCW contract expire?" Vince asked. I took a sip of my lemonade and tried to keep a straight face. It was very tart.

"Next Saturday at midnight."

"And you are absolutely sure there are no verbal agreements in place?" Bruce asked. I nodded.

"Yes. Eric doesn't talk to me."

JR slid the contract over to me. The amount we agreed on was a little higher than they usually offer for women. I'm not even sure what made them offer the amount, but it was a nice surprise. JR told me it was more than they usually offered, which caught me by surprise. I grabbed the folder and opened it up. Seeing my name on the contract underneath the WWF letterhead made my heart skip a few beats. My hands were suddenly shaking again.

I took a moment to take it all in. It's the biggest moment of my life thus far, validation for every drop of blood, sweat, and tears that I've given. Growing up watching wrestling with my family, I'd always hoped I'd end up here, competing at _WrestleMania_ and becoming the Women's Champion.

Creatively I had driven a hard bargain during negotiations; the contract gave me a small degree of creative control over my character, just in terms of what I felt comfortable with doing. For as popular as The Attitude Era has been, there's been a lot of questionable things that I could never see myself doing. The coolest part of the contract was outside of the guarantee; I had the option to make more money off things like video games and T-shirts. Chris told me in his first year, he didn't make his base salary; he made double.

With a smile on my face and a shake in my hands, I signed my name on the dotted line and became a WWF Diva.

"The plan is for you to start the Monday after _SummerSlam_ ," Michael informed me. "That gives you a few weeks to get all of your affairs in order before you're on the road with us."

"That sounds great."

With a smile on my face, I signed my name on the dotted line and became a WWF Diva.

"We're thinking of having you start just after _SummerSlam_ ," Vince told me. "That gives you a few weeks to get all of your affairs in order before you start." I was a little disappointed that I wasn't going to start as soon as my contract expired, but I knew there were all kinds of minor details that had to be ironed out.

"I'm going to go and fax this," JR announced. Vince stood with him, the two of them leaving together. I got up to leave, gathering my purse and adjusting the strap over my shoulder. It was a short visit, but I didn't want to make things awkward by hanging around. Vince turned and noticed I was going to leave.

"Do you have a ride back to your hotel?" he asked. I nodded.

"I set up another cab for a few minutes from now." He approached me and we once again shook hands.

"Welcome to the WWF, Rinoa. I look forward to seeing what you can do."

"Thank you."

"I'll walk you out," Shane offered, getting out of his chair. His hand ghosted on my spine, leading me back down the hallway towards the front door. "Welcome to the family," he offered when we were out of everyone's earshot.

"Thank you, Mr. McMahon."

"Please. Mr. McMahon is my father. I'm Shane." He stood across from me in the hall while I slid my heels back on. "A piece of advice, Rinoa: the WWF can be a little bit of a strange place to navigate at times, and with the war going on between us and WCW, you might have a bit of heat. If you need anything, or if anyone gives you a hard time, let me know, okay?"

I looked at him, trying to keep my suspicion muted. I couldn't help but wonder how many other Divas he made the same offer to. I dismissed the thought almost right away, just because he seemed too genuine to be sleazy. "Thank you. I will." He opened the door for me and I walked through it. He surprised me by following me outside.

"Rinoa, another thing before you go..."

I turned to him, watching him reach into the breast pocket of his shirt. He handed me a business card. "Sometimes...people coming over from other companies get over here and have a hard time adjusting to our style. Chris did. You have a few weeks before you start. Maybe head down there and get yourself used to the way we do things. He'll also report to Dad that you're there, so it will give you some extra brownie points."

"Oh. Thank you."

"Don't mention it." He said goodbye and disappeared back inside the house. I looked down at the business card. _The Funking Dojo Conservatory_. It was run by Dory Funk, Jr. Looking at the closed door, I found myself touched by Shane's act of generosity. I slid the card into my purse and made my way back to the dirt road.

By the time I got down to the bottom, where the cab was waiting for me, the excitement that I felt had given way to dread. The idea of telling Eric that I had no desire to re-sign made me sick.

As if on cue, my cell phone rang. I saw it was Eric's number, and I groaned. It didn't take me long to decide to just let it go to my answering service. I could have told him sooner that I was negotiating with Vince, but I didn't want there to be a tug of war, and I decided quickly that I'd wait until I signed with Vince to tell Eric the news, in case everything fell through. It could have been an unrelated phone call, but part of me felt like Eric knew that I was going to leave. No part of me relished the idea of telling Eric the news. When Chris left last year, Eric had been downright vindictive, going so far as to claim he failed a drug test. He sent Chris to rehab. Chris had been so confused, but – in true WCW fashion – he was still getting paid, so Chris wasn't too torn up about it. Despite being short in stature, Eric can be quite intimidating, and I didn't want him attempting to strong arm me into re-signing with threats of lawsuits. But the days of him promising a women's division and a place at the top of the mountain are long gone; I just can't wait forever to make him see that I'm valuable.

The ringing stopped when I got into the cab. I instructed the driver to take me back to my hotel as my answering service alert went off. I dreaded the idea of listening to the voice-mail, but I decided to do it later; I wanted to save the high I was feeling after landing my dream job.

After making a U-turn, the cab was soon speeding back towards civilization. The silence that lasted a few minutes was broken by my phone ringing once more. I sighed, staring down at the phone, my anxiety replaced with joy when I saw it was Chris calling and not Eric. I answered quickly. "Hello hello," I greeted.

"Hey, Noa. You signed yet?" he asked.

"I just left Vince's house. I'm heading back to the hotel now. The contract is signed, sealed and delivered," I told him. "But I won't be starting until after _SummerSlam_ next month." I looked at the trees passing by in a green blur.

"Fucking awesome. Eddie's been asking all day if you've signed the contract yet. He's so fucking psyched that you're finally crossing over."

"I can't believe I'm really here," I confessed.

"I always knew you would, Noa. You were always too good to not end up here."

"Thanks. You've always been too good to me." We fell quiet for a few moments.

"So...Vince is pretty intimidating, huh?" he asked. I found myself laughing.

"Oh my God, so very. Thank God Shane's a down-to-Earth guy, otherwise I think I would have been more nervous." I shifted in my seat to get more comfortable.

"Everyone loves Shane. He's a cool guy," Chris informed me. "Everyone gets along with him. He just keeps his eyes down and minds his own business. Just remember to follow his lead in that department. The politicking and bullshit aren't as bad as it is in WCW, but it's still there. It took everyone a while to warm up to me, coming from enemy territory. It's been a war in every sense of the word."

"Thanks for the head's up." I stared out the window. "I don't know if I've ever said this, but thank you for everything you've done to get me here. I don't know if I'll ever be able to repay you."

"Don't mention it, Noa. I know you'd do the same for me." I found myself smiling, my eyes welling up with grateful tears. "Now, I hate to ruin this Family Channel moment, Noa, but I'm just pulling into an autograph signing. I'll call you later and we'll talk some more then, okay?"

"Okay. I'll see you really soon."

"Welcome to the family. It's about time you brought your narrow ass over here." I found myself laughing. We said our goodbyes and I hung up the phone, dropping it back inside my purse. I looked out the window, at the trees and the houses passing me by in a blur. After all these years, I've finally made it to the big leagues. It's my only hope that I don't leave anybody disappointed.


	2. Bright Lights, Bigger City

Chapter 2: Bright Lights, Bigger City

* * *

When Eric found out that I had no intention of re-signing with him, he went _nuclear_. I've had people get upset with me before, sometimes over big things and other times over small, but nobody ever laced into me the way that Eric did. He called me all kinds of names and informed me that I was a diva, a pain in the ass and that I wasn't worth the paper my contract was printed on. He was so unhinged and rabid that I could visualize him foaming at the mouth on the other side of the phone. He called me a nothing and a nobody before he threatened to sue me for breach of contract. I managed to speak up then and remind him that there was no contract, and he got even angrier. I've normally got a thick skin, but the call with Eric had left me so rattled that I had to call Chris afterward for some comfort. Chris told me to be thankful that I had managed to keep it a secret longer than he had; he confessed that he played his WWF hand too early. I didn't give Eric a chance to make my life a living hell the way he had with Chris. While Chris is generally a happy-go-lucky kind of guy, he didn't leave WCW unscathed; he still has some scars from the ordeal.

Two weeks after I signed my contract, JR called and told me that they wanted to have my debut the night after _SummerSlam_ , at the Cajun Dome in Lafayette, Louisiana. During our call, he also voiced his pleasure with the fact that I was down at the Dojo with Dory Funk, doing my best to adapt to the WWF style. The first week wasn't super easy, but Dory told me to keep at it. I opted to create a new finisher; an inverted face lock into a double knee backbreaker. I'm calling it the Last Breath because it knocked the wind out of my poor partner.

I arrived at the arena on my first night feeling both excited and nervous. Chris has constantly been reminding me that it's wartime and that my presence might not be welcome. Once again I dressed business casual, this time in a violet quarter-sleeve blouse with the first three buttons undone and a beige pencil skirt. I finished the look with no jewelry and tan heels. My hair was tied back in a high ponytail that swung every time I moved.

Killing the ignition, I got out of the car and immediately spotted Chris standing just outside the door of the arena, leaned against the wall. He was dressed in a pair of red vinyl pants and a black button-down shirt that was wide open. His long blond hair was down, and he wore sunglasses. He looked the part of a rock star. When our eyes locked, a wide smile split his face and he moved away from the wall. I opened the trunk and grabbed my luggage, shutting the trunk before I went to meet Chris in the middle of the lot. His embrace was tight and so familiar; I dropped my bag and hugged him back as tight as I could.

"I'm so glad to see you," he greeted. He released me and reached down to grab my suitcase, despite my protests that I could carry my own bags. I followed him into the arena. It was obvious Chris met up with me to get me accustomed to the rituals and traditions of the new locker room. The two of us approached everyone we saw and shook hands and I introduced myself. We rounded a corner and found Eddie sitting on a trunk, talking loudly to Dean Malenko and Chris Benoit, his arms flailing wildly with emphasis. Benoit and Dean were laughing at the story, which died on Eddie's lips as his brown eyes fell on Chris and me.

Eddie Guerrero has always been one of my favourite people to be around. Out of everyone I know, he has the most infectious smile, and the sparkle in his eyes seems to be contagious. For the past year, he's been battling some really heavy demons, and I wish he could find his way through it, but if Chris hadn't confided his worries to me, I'd never know there was a problem when I see Eddie. I've always found it impossible to be upset when Eddie is around; he's a walking definition of the term "life of the party".

On the other hand, Eddie's best friend Chris Benoit is hard to read. He's an intense man, with cold blue eyes that could freeze the toughest of men. I've got this sneaking suspicion that he doesn't like me, but Chris assures me it's not the case, that Benoit is...well, Benoit. There are times where I feel like he laughs a little too long or too hard at jokes where someone gets hurt or looks stupid. I'm in the group by way of Chris, but I usually deal with Chris, Eddie, and Dean. I always feel so nervous and uncomfortable around Benoit; he has a stare that makes me feel like I'm six inches tall.

I don't know Dean as well as I should for being in the group, but he trained Nora. The two of them were so helpful to me when I started in WCW. Dean has a sense of humor that is criminally underrated, and his depth of knowledge is as scattershot and random as mine.

Eddie slid off the trunk and rushed to give me a hug. "Welcome to the jungle, _Mamacita_!" Eddie greeted, laughing. His hugs always made me feel like I was family. I hugged him back, but the force of his embrace knocked me back a couple steps. Chris had to put his hand on my back to keep me in place.

"I'm so glad to see you, Eddie. It's been too long," I told him. He released me and I shook hands with Benoit and Dean, exchanging greetings with each other. I turned to Chris. "I hate to cut this short, but I'm going to find the women's locker room and get myself settled in for tonight. I'll meet you later." Chris nodded. I thanked him for carrying my bag as I took it back and left the quartet in the hall to talk among themselves.

I arrived at the locker room, with a WWF Divas logo taped to the door. I knocked and waited for a couple seconds before I walked inside, surprised to find the room empty. I put my bag on a bench away from everyone else and pulled out my ring gear. I'd had it made special for tonight. It was two pieces, the first two piece ring gear I've ever owned. The shorts were a little shorter than I'm used to, black vinyl with an emerald green belt. There was a train of emerald mesh that attached to the belt for my entrance. The top was a bustier that ended just past my sternum, black vinyl with an emerald green zipper and trims along the bodice and the bottom. I also had emerald green covers to go over my boots and knee-pads. When I tried it on earlier in the week it looked good; now, on my first night, I found myself second-guessing everything.

The door opened and I looked up to see Trish Stratus walk in, fresh from hair and makeup. I noticed right away that television doesn't do her beauty justice; the woman is so gorgeous it's unreal. She was dressed in little glimmering red shorts and a black halter top that pushed her cleavage up and out to gravity-defying proportions. Her brown eyes fell on me, and instead of the hostility I had been warned about, I was greeted with a friendly smile.

"You must be the new blood," she chirped, approaching with her hand outstretched. I shook it.

"I am. I'm Rinoa."

"Rinoa...that's a unique name. How'd you end up with that?"

"My grandmother's name is Rita, and my grandfather's name was Noah. My parents just kinda merged it."

"That's cute. Super clever." Her voice was soft and distinctly feminine. She had a firm grip. Releasing the handshake, Trish went to the vanity to reapply her lip gloss while I got changed. Prior to her wrestling career, Trish got her start as a fitness model. She graced the cover of a lot of magazines. I have a few that I bought years ago, looking for fitness advice, issues I bought long before Trish even thought about stepping inside of a ring.

"It looks like it's you and me tonight," she told me. "I'm still learning myself, so I think the guys are going to be doing most of the heavy lifting." I nodded. Before I could say anything, our time alone was interrupted by knocking on the door. Trish put her tube of lip gloss down on the table and went to answer the door. She swung it open wide, the two of us surprised to find Shane standing on the other side of the door, dressed in a white button-down shirt and blue jeans.

"Is everyone decent in there?" he asked.

"Well, that depends on your definition of decent, Mr. McMahon," Trish said, her tone making it obvious that she was flirting. She stood to the side so Shane could walk into the room. "It's just me and the newbie in here. Who are you looking for?"

"The newbie, actually," he said with a laugh. His eyes fell on me and he smiled. "Hey, Rinoa. How is your first night going? Is everything going well? Has there been any problems?"

"No. So far, everything has been fine," I assured him, ignoring the suspicious eye Trish was giving me.

"I am supposed to take you out to the stage area. We're supposed to run your entrance through before the show tonight." I nodded and quickly bid farewell to Trish before I followed Shane out into the hall. He fell into step beside me, the two of us stopping and shaking hands with every face we saw.

"Are you nervous about tonight?" he asked as we walked.

"Would you think any less of me if I told you that I was?"

"Of you? Never. I'd be more worried if you didn't have a case of nerves," he assured me with a smile. We walked up the steel steps, into a little area where there were two tables. Headphones and wires were everywhere. "This is Gorilla, named after Gorilla Monsoon," he explained. I nodded. "During the show, I sit back here with my dad and Brisco and we run everything from this little area here."

"Wow." I didn't know what else to say. It wasn't anywhere near as organized at WCW.

"Follow me." I nodded and he held open the curtain for me to walk through, onto the stage. Shane followed.

Standing at the top of the stage, staring at the RAW IS WAR ring apron, I found myself overwhelmed. I looked at the empty stands that were going to be filled in a few hours. In this business, the worst reaction is no reaction, and I found myself terrified that nobody was going to know who I was.

"Kurt and Trish are going to come out to the ring first tonight," Shane explained. "Chris is going to follow. He's going to have a mic and he's going to talk about bringing a friend with him as an equalizer. And then..." He grabbed the radio from the waistband of his pants and brought it to his mouth. "Run it, guys."

The lights in the arena went off. I was startled by the sudden darkness. My music fired up; "Points of Authority" by a new band on the scene called Linkin Park. I've heard Vince hates using music by other bands, but he actually put the stamp of approval on this. I watched, completely spellbound by the way the red and purple lights danced through the empty stands and around the ring. When the opening rap was over and the introduction came to an end, the swirling lights became pulsing lights. It was so much more than anything I could have ever envisioned; I found myself tearing up.

"This is incredible," I remarked, but I knew that nobody could hear me over the loud music. I could feel Shane's eyes on me, taking in every reaction I had to the entrance that they had set up for me. When the music faded and the lights came back up, we took a moment to stand in silence so I could process everything I had just seen. "I...I can't believe this."

"So...you like?"

"Like? I _love_."

"Great. I was hoping you would. I hate to cut this time with you short but I have to go and track down Vince. I'll probably see you later." I nodded, and he disappeared through the black curtain, leaving me all by myself at the top of the ramp to take in my new surroundings. After a few moments, I turned and went back towards the Divas locker room, needing to get myself changed and ready for my debut. When I got back, Trish was there with Lita, the high-flying valet to Matt and Jeff Hardy.

"Oh, hello – I'm Rinoa," I said, holding my hand out for her to shake. Her grip was firm.

"I'm Amy, but just about everyone around here calls me Lita." Her red hair was pulled back in a high ponytail with two loose strands hanging around her face. Her makeup was done, her eyes heavy with shadow and lips lined thick. She wore baggy white pants with her black thong visible and a purple Hardy Boyz T-shirt that had been modified. Underneath her shirt, she wore a red fishnet top.

"I was just telling Amy here that you left with Shane. How...how was your time with Shane?" Trish asked, ruffling the hair on the back of her head. I wasn't sure that I liked the insinuation she was making, especially with Amy standing beside her. I shrugged.

"It was fine. He just showed me how my entrance is going to go down tonight."

"I'm sure something was going down," Trish joked. I shot her a glare.

"What are you getting at, Trish?" I asked. I was trying my hardest not to get visibly annoyed, but I wanted it to be known that I wasn't going to stand for those kinds of rumors about me, especially on my first night. Trish put her hands up as if to tell me to step back and not be so defensive.

"I'm just saying that he didn't do anything like that for me when I arrived. Did he for you?" she asked Lita. The redhead beside me shook her head, her lips pursed.

"Nothing like that for me, either."

"Shane doesn't deal with the women around here often," Trish told me, "which makes this kind of a big deal." I shot a look at Lita, but she only nodded confirmation. "I think the last woman he got close to around here was Chyna, but things have gone downhill between her and everyone here. So, just a head's up, because you'll probably see her at some point. She's off right now shooting for a _Playboy_ spread that's supposed to drop in the fall."

"Thanks for the head's up," I told them. "Is there anything else I need to know back here?"

"Watch out for Kurt Angle – he seems like an innocent idiot, but he's a dangerous idiot," Trish informed me. "I know this because I work with him regularly. I nodded, vowing to myself to keep that information at the forefront of my mind. On the other hand, I was disappointed, because I would have loved to get some pointers from Kurt.

"Andy – Test, since there are a few guys with the same name back here – is kind of awful, too," Lita piped up. Trish nodded quickly. "He doesn't like the word 'no', so just be careful."

"Dating Stephanie last year kind of went to his head, and now he thinks he's God's gift or something," Trish told me. I nodded; last year, Shane had been beside himself when Stephanie got involved with the strapping Canadian wrestler. He tried everything to dissuade Stephanie from getting involved with one of the boys, but after losing a match to Test, Shane had come around and accepted it. Their wedding had ended in spectacular and disastrous fashion when Hunter came out and showed video of himself marrying an obviously drugged Stephanie at a Las Vegas drive-thru chapel. For a few months she had kept up the facade of being horrified, but in the end, we learned she was in on the plan all along.

Trish and Amy told me they had things to do and people to see, so they left, and once again I was alone in the locker room. I got changed, pulling the covers up over my knee pads as Nora walked in with Terri Runnels, Ivory, and Jacqueline. "Rinoa?" Nora squealed. I got out of my chair quick and rushed to her, giving her a hug. "I can't believe you're here! It's about time!" She pulled back and turned to the others. "Rinoa, this is Lisa, Terri, and Jackie. Guys, this is Rinoa – I was telling you about her." She turned back to me, hands on her hips. "I've been meaning to give you a call – I had no idea you got signed!"

"I've been looking forward to seeing you," I confessed. Every part of me was grateful that the women's roster had been so welcoming so far. Whatever hostility Chris had faced when he got here seemed to be confined to the men's locker room. Or maybe it was because I came in obviously desperate to adapt and fit in and get along with people. I excused myself to go get ready for hair and makeup, once again shaking hands with everyone on my way out.

* * *

Loud and inspirational music blared through the arena. Kurt Angle walked out, dressed in his red, white, and blue singlet, with Trish Stratus at his side. Chris and I watched them walk down the ramp through the curtain. My arms were crossed over my chest because I had no idea what to do with them. Chris looked over at me. "Welcome to the big leagues, Noa. Break a leg out there."

"You, too."

We were silenced by the loud countdown, followed by the lights in the arena going out. Chris disappeared through the curtain and I found myself vibrating with fear. I jumped from foot to foot to catch my breath. Over in Japan, I was known as a daredevil and a risk taker, the kind of girl who didn't give a damn about her own well-being. Over here, I'm just Rinoa Fielder, another misused and semi-disgruntled former WCW employee looking to make a name for myself.

I heard Chris speaking, but I was so caught up in my nerves that I didn't hear the words he spoke. Through the sliver of the curtain, I saw the lights go out and the red and purple start. The crowd was buzzing, and when the opening rap started, I knew it was go-time.

 _"You can't run the race, the pace is too fast – you just won't last_."

The lights exploded and I burst through the curtain, running to the far right of the stage and then the left before making my way down the ramp. I noticed recognition on the eyes of a few people and some cheers that gave me a newfound feeling of confidence. I took my place beside Chris, who draped his arm over my shoulders and pulled me into him. With a look and a nod, the two of us rushed the ring, forcing both Trish and Kurt to retreat.

When the music came to a stop, Kurt and Trish agreed that Kurt would start the match. I stood on the corner, holding onto the tag rope, watching the two men work. The whole time I watched them I tried to swallow the fear of bungling my big debut.

Kurt knocked Chris over the top rope, sending him to the outside. Kurt shot me a look, eyeing me up and down, his puffy mouth curving into a smirk before he followed after his opponent. The two men brawled into the crowd, leaving Trish and me alone to compete.

We both stepped inside. Trish was far more apprehensive about getting into the ring than I was. I stood in the middle of the ring, arms open wide, motioning for her to take her best shot at me. Trish surprised me by approaching, rearing her hand back and slapping me as hard as she could across the face. The crowd roared in a stunned "Oh!"

I reared my hand back and hit her just as hard. She rushed me but I ducked. I grabbed her around the neck, locking her into the front face lock. I turned and dropped, putting my knees up into her back. There was a gasp that was cut short by the wind being knocked out of her, and I quickly covered her.

"One, two, three."

The bell rang and my music began to play through the speakers. I stood over Trish, the referee raising my hand high in the air. My eyes scanned my surroundings, but I couldn't see any sign of Chris anywhere. Across from me in the front row, a child who couldn't have been older than six waved at me, her eyes lit up and her smile infectious. I waved back at her and her jaw dropped. When I realized that Chris wasn't going to make it back to the ring I got out and made my way back up the ramp, slapping hands with fans.

When I got backstage, Shane was the first person I saw. He was clapping his hands together, smiling. "I told my dad that signing you would not be a mistake, Rinoa. Thanks for proving me right." He approached quick, wrapping his arms around me and giving me a hug. It caught me completely by surprise, and I could feel everyone's eyes on us. Shane seemed to realize that, too, and he let me go as if my skin had set him on fire. "Sorry..."

"It's cool."

"Thatfinisher looks _rough_ ," he informed me. "I think you really knocked the wind out of her."

"I think I did, too," I confessed. We said our goodbyes and I left Gorilla, going into the backstage area. I ran into Chris in catering. He was still in his tights, but he found a Y2J T-shirt to throw on. He shot me a look.

"I thought you said you've never tried out here before." I blinked.

"I haven't. I didn't think I'd ever get here. What did I miss?"

"I'm hearing that Shane's got a hard-on for you."

"Oh, Jesus."

"Noa, I'm gonna say this once, as your friend – getting tangled up with the McMahon kids is a recipe for disaster."

"I'm way ahead of you, Chris." The gleam in his eye said that he didn't believe me. I sighed. "Don't look at me like that, Chris. I'm not doing anything wrong here."

"I know, but it's your first night and there are whispers." Chris shrugged. "I've seen the way he's been looking at you tonight. I think he wants to get into your..."

"Could you not say that so loudly back here? Jesus Christ." I shook my head. "You're wrong."

"Noa and Shane..."

"Finish that sentence, Chris, and I'll kill you where you stand."

"Duly noted. I'll finish it later." He grabbed his water bottle and left to shower, leaving me standing in catering wondering what the hell was happening.


	3. Number One Contender

Chapter 3: Number One Contender

* * *

My second week of _Raw_ took place at the Gund Arena in Cleveland, Ohio. It was a great afternoon, with a bright blue sky and a beautiful summer breeze. I arrived at the arena driving a rented taupe Honda Civic, dressed in a black and white striped off-the-shoulder sweater and black pants with ankle boots. I shook hands with everyone I saw, greeting everyone with a smile and a kind word. I stopped by the match card and was surprised to find that I would be taking part in several segments with Stephanie McMahon, along with a match against Ivory.

I spotted Shane talking to one of the backstage hands, a young kid named Matthew. Shane spotted me immediately, his brown eyes sparking to life and a smile splitting his face. He excused himself from his conversation and approached me. "Hey, Rinoa, I'm glad I ran into you," he greeted. "I got some big news from the creative meeting, and I wanted to be the first to break the news."

"Oh? What's going on?" I asked, releasing my hold on my suitcase. Unsure of what to do with my hands, I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Your match with Ivory tonight is going to be a number one contender's match." My eyes widened.

"You're kidding."

"Not at all."

"Oh. What's this?"

I turned to see Stephanie standing behind me, dressed in a black leather mini-skirt and a low-cut black tank top that didn't suit her very well. Her brown hair was freshly crimped and wild, her makeup heavy. The Women's Championship was rested over her left shoulder. She looked me up and down. "Nice top," she commented. I couldn't tell if she was being genuine or not, but I didn't want to make a scene.

"Thanks. I dig your boots." Stephanie looked down at her knee-high leather boots with the chunky heel.

"They're something, aren't they?" she asked. I nodded.

"I was just telling Rinoa about her title opportunity tonight," Shane told her. Stephanie's gaze swung back to me, and I felt six inches tall underneath her cold blue eyes.

"Good luck out there tonight. Ivory is tough competition," Stephanie informed me. I nodded. "Just a head's up – I won't be a cake walk either." With that, she turned on her heels and walked away. I blinked; I had no idea how to unpack the short meeting between the two of us. Shane sighed, and I turned my attention back to him.

"I think she might hate me."

"Steph? Nah, she's like this with everyone. Don't let it get to you."

"It also probably doesn't help that I'm best friends with Chris."

"I didn't really think of that," Shane confessed sheepishly. Stephanie and Chris have a bit of a nasty rivalry going on, with both sides saying some terrible things to each other. "I guess it would be better if you tread lightly with her then. She's petty like my father."

"Thanks for the head's up," I said, laughing in spite of the fear. "Thanks for the news. I'm going to go and get myself settled for the night and get ready. I'll see you around."

"Great. Oh, shit, Noa – wait!"

I stopped, turning. He approached quick. "What's up?" I asked.

"I was going to ask – after the show tonight a few of us are going out. There's a private little place that opens up for us after hours so we don't get hassled, and we have coffee and cheesecake, and I wanted to know if you wanted to join us."

"You had me at cheesecake, but who all is going to be there?"

Shane beamed. "I'll be there. And so will Steph and Hunter."

"Oh, no – I'm not going to be walking into enemy territory here, am I? Is this gonna be, like, _Goodfellas_ style? I walk into the room and BAM – Hunter hits me with a chair or something?" Shane laughed.

"Nah. I mean, I'll be there, so I'll make sure it doesn't happen on my watch."

"Well, I guess there's that, then. Still, though – you had me at cheesecake."

"Glad to know that's all it takes," he said. We shared a laugh. "I'll catch you later."

"Sounds good. Get back to work. Slacker." Shane roared with laughter before he left me alone in the highway. With a shake of my head, I picked up my suitcase and made my way to the women's locker room.

* * *

"Rinoa, congratulations on becoming the number one contender..."

Lilian Garcia trailed off as the door to the women's locker room burst open, her face contorted into the McMahon Snarl. With a loud and wild howl, she ran at me, the two of us sailing over suitcases and folding chairs. I landed hard enough that the wind was knocked out of me, with Stephanie slapping wildly before grabbing my hair in both hands and slamming my head into the floor repeatedly. "Get off me, you lunatic!" I shrieked.

"Lunatic? I'll show you a lunatic!" Stephanie growled. One of the hands disappeared from my hair, hitting my face. There were hands on us in seconds, everyone trying to pull us apart. The referees crowded me, checking on me. I was holding my face; it burned. Shane was holding onto Stephanie momentarily before she got out of his grasp, turning and slapping him harder than she had hit me. The sound of the slap bounced off the walls and made me wince. Then she stormed out, leaving all of us gobsmacked. I looked around the room and saw Lilian was long gone. The cameraman shut his gear down and left. The referees left. It was just Shane and I inside the women's locker room, both of us with matching hand-prints on our faces.

"I can't believe none of them helped you up," Shane said with a derisive snort. He approached, holding out his hand for me to take. I allowed him to help me to my feet, my other hand glued to my face. My cheeks burned; it was hard to tell which one hurt more. I looked at Shane; there was a little bit of swelling underneath his left eye and a red hand-print on his face.

"Jesus, she packs a wallop."

"You don't have to tell me – she does this shit to me _all the time_."

"Jesus." He moved my hand from my face. "Is your head okay?" His hands started moving through my hair, searching for any sign of a lump. I winced. "Sorry. Maybe we should get you to the trainer and you can get some ice for it."

"I'm fine," I insisted. "I've taken so much worse."

"I don't doubt that." He sighed. "You know what I think?"

"What's that?"

"I think we should blow off the cheesecake date with them tonight."

"I'm conflicted," I confessed. "I really do want some cheesecake."

"I know another little place. I'm not going to lie – right now I don't even want to be in the same area code. All of... _this_...was uncalled for." I nodded, but I knew what she was doing. Stephanie was trying to intimidate me. She wanted to throw me off my game. We fell silent for a few moments. "I should probably get the hell out of the Divas locker room. I feel like this could be a lawsuit waiting to happen."

"Thank you for your intervention," I blurted.

"Anytime." He left, and I looked at the overturned chairs and bags. My leg was suddenly hurting and I realized I was bleeding from my calf. I limped into the shower area to clean myself up. Part of me was impressed; I was going to be feeling every ounce of Stephanie's attack for at least the next couple days.

* * *

"Hey. You ready for some cheesecake? Don't think I forgot."

I shut the trunk of my car and turned to see Shane. The redness in his face had gone down, but there was a small amount of bruising by his eye. Before I could catch myself, I reached out to touch it gently. He winced. "Sorry. Wow. She got you really good, didn't she?"

"Part of the family package. You got any siblings?"

"Nope. I'm an only child. I never had to worry about anything like this."

"You're lucky. I love my sister, but sometimes..." He sighed, the frown on his face quickly replaced by a smile. "I'm driving the red Mustang over there. It's probably a better idea if you follow me there." I nodded. He crossed the parking lot and I moved to the driver's seat. I buckled my seat-belt, stopping for a moment to watch Shane get into the car. Chris wanted to go out tonight, and I felt bad that I'd come up with an excuse, but Shane had asked first and I knew Chris would lose his mind if I told him I was going out after the show with Shane. He's been hammering it home that I should stick to myself and stay as far away from the McMahon family as possible, but it's hard. Part of me wonders why Shane is hanging around me so much, if there's some kind of ulterior motive at play, but he's so disarming.

I started the car and pulled out of the space. I checked the rear-view mirror and made sure everything was good to go before I got on the road.

 _"I wish I was a little bit taller, I wish I was a baller, I wish..."_

I turned my head to see Shane's car beside me, and I had to bite back a laugh at the choice of song. He turned to look at me, flashed me a smile, and then drove ahead. I followed behind, wondering where exactly we were going.

* * *

"For two weeks, I think you've adjusted here perfectly," Shane informed me. The two of us were sitting in a cute little bistro, the two of us enjoying cherry cheesecake. Shane got a coffee to go with his, while I got a cup of herbal tea. "The girls really seem to like you. Nora's happy you're here. Trish and Lita seem to enjoy having you around."

"They're all really sweet."

"What happened with you and Chyna?" he asked. I looked up at him, surprised.

"With Chyna? Nothing. I haven't met her yet." I took a bite of my cheesecake.

"I should have known." He sighed. "I don't know what's up with her anymore."

"You two were friends, right?"

"Yeah. While she was with Hunter. When Hunter up and married my sister, things kind of got weird. I think there's a little bit more to it than that, but she's not exactly talking to me anymore. I guess I can't really blame her, but it kind of sucks." He took a sip of his coffee. "There's so much weird stuff there, and I told myself I'm not going to get into the middle of it. Not my circus."

"I'm sorry. But I don't know what that has to do with her and me."

"All of this...with the three of them...she's paranoid and insecure. You're a threat. You're here to take a spot."

"That's ridiculous. She's got her own thing going on, so far removed from us women. I'm not having matches with Eddie and Chris."

"I know that, and you know that. But it's the mentality she's got. These days she has a huge chip on her shoulder." He sighed. "Maybe try to steer clear if you can. I'm not saying you should be afraid of her or anything, but there's just a lot of drama. Steering clear might be your best course of action."

"You're not going to hear me argue with that."

"I was going to ask – how did it go when you spoke to Eric about the contract?" I groaned. "That good, huh?"

"It would have taken two of me for it to go worse," I confessed. "He _flipped_."

"I thought he would have gone a little bit easier, since, you know..."

"Since what?"

"You're a woman."

"Ha. Eric's an equal opportunity offender, let me tell you." Shane laughed. "He left me in such a state I had to call Chris after. I've never had anyone lace into me like that before. I'm glad it was over the phone because I'm pretty sure he would have strangled me."

"Between you and I, it sounds like you picked a great time to get out." I looked at Shane.

"What's happening?"

"The AOL-Time Warner merger. Dad heard there's some resistance to keeping WCW on the networks when the new regime takes over. Dad's kind of biding his time, but he's pretty sure WCW is going to be up for sale by the time the year is out." My eyes widened.

"You're kidding."

"Not at all. I'm keeping an eye on it, too. It's fascinating stuff." We fell silent. I looked out the window, at the cars passing in the darkness. "Do you ride with anyone?"

"Me? No. I used to ride with Chris and the guys, but they drove me _insane_. So I just travel alone. What about you? Who does the boss's son travel with?"

"I travel mostly with Bubba and D-Von, or Rodney and the guys."

"Oh, yes – The Mean Street Posse," I said with a laugh. "From the mean streets of Greenwich."

"That was Dad's idea," Shane informed me, sharing the laugh. "But the guys and I were up to some serious shit back in the day. I wouldn't say we ran a Fight Club..."

"Well, if you did, you'd be breaking the first two rules of Fight Club." Shane made a noise, almost choking on his coffee. "I'm not going to lie – you don't strike me as much of a troublemaker, Shane."

"That's just because you haven't really gotten to know me yet."

"I don't know how to respond to that," I said with a laugh.

"You've never been a troublemaker?" he asked.

"Me? No. I was the lookout." Shane roared with laughter.

"I can see that." Shane sighed. "Out of Steph and I, I was definitely the biggest pain in the ass growing up. Dad had to bail me out of cuffs _a lot_." My eyes widened.

"You?"

"Oh yeah."

"How many times are we talking here?"

"Double digits."

"Jesus."

"I've straightened out a lot. Now, Stephanie is the pain. It's like the roles reversed the older we got. But Stephanie is just kind of spoiled and entitled." He shrugged. "We both grew up in this business. As soon as I was old enough to work, Dad had me helping the guys put up and take down the ring. Stephanie worked the phones. We both modeled merchandise. But somewhere, the two of us kind of developed different ideas of what things should be. I think Dad corrupted her."

"How so?"

"It's really complicated, but I see her turning into him more and more every day." He shook his head. "There was a time where I wanted to be just like him, but I didn't like looking at myself in the mirror. So every day I just try to be me."

"There's nothing wrong with being yourself."

"It took me a long time to see that." He shook his head. "I'm sorry – I bring you out for cheesecake and just vent."

"It's fine. I've been told I have this effect on people."

"You're a pretty good listener."

"I try to be."

"I guess we should get back," Shane said with a sigh. I reached for my wallet. "What are you doing?"

"Paying for my cheesecake?"

"Nope. I invited you out. Your money's no good."

"I'll get the next one?"

"Works for me." We stood. Shane dropped money on the table, way more than he needed to for a coffee, tea and two pieces of cheesecake. With his hand ghosting on my spine, we walked out of the bistro.

It was a beautiful summer night. I looked up at the moon and the stars and I found myself smiling. "Drive safe. I'll see you in the next town," Shane said.

"You, too." With that, we got in our cars and separated. I began my drive to the next town, turning the music up loud to keep me awake. It was going to be about two hours to the next town, the next hotel, and I couldn't wait to crawl into bed and get some sleep.


	4. Frostbite

Chapter 4: Frostbite

* * *

"I know you didn't blow me off to go out on a date with _him_ last week."

"Jesus, Chris. Hello to you, too." I looked to my left to see him fall into step beside me, dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a plain black T-shirt, his long blond hair pulled back in a low ponytail. He dragged his bag behind him. It was the first Monday in September and _Raw_ was ready to air live from the Pepsi Centre in Denver, Colorado. "Also – could you say that any louder? Are you _trying_ to get me in trouble here?"

"So you aren't denying it."

"I did not blow you off! My God – he asked first. See, I didn't say anything about it because I knew you were going to be like this." He stepped in front of me, forcing me to stop in my tracks so I didn't collide with him. The two of us were alone in the middle of the empty parking lot. I was thankful at that moment that there were no fans or colleagues around.

"What have I been telling you, Noa?"

"Don't get involved with the McMahon family."

"And what have you been doing?"

"It's not what you think, Chris."

"All I'm hearing is fucking excuses," he told me. I rolled my eyes and walked away from him. "Get back here."

"We're not doing this," I told him over my shoulder. Opening the door, I walked into the arena, already frustrated by the direction my night was headed. Stopping by the match card I had to bite back a scream of irritation when I saw that I was going to be working a mixed tag match with Chris tonight, our opponents being Hunter and Stephanie.

I went to the women's locker room, walking inside to find Trish and Terri applying their makeup, while Ivory and Nora were talking with Lita. Their eyes turned to me for a moment but went back to what they were doing. The atmosphere in the room felt a little strange, a little frosty. I set myself up in a corner and went into my bag. I decided to go with a blue variant of my ring gear. I thought about messaging Chris to try and sync up like a real team, but I decided almost right away I didn't want to deal with him.

"Hey, Noa. Ready for your match tonight?" Trish asked. I nodded. "I've got this lipstick...I think it would go perfectly with this dress. I'll lend it to you, take it to makeup, but I think you would look just _perfect_ in it." She approached me, handing me a tube of a rosy colored lipstick.

"Thanks."

"How are you feeling? That was a hell of an attack last week."

"I'm all right. It'll take a lot more than that to keep me down." I shrugged out of my rose cardigan and draped it over the chair. Trish examined me.

"Are you okay?"

"What? Yeah. It was a bit of a strange drive here. I'll be good to go after I've had a tea."

"I'll come with you." I nodded and quickly got into my ring gear. Loading my things back into my bag, I placed it under the bench and left with Trish to get a cup of tea.

"I heard you and Shane went out last week," Trish whispered.

"Oh, God, could you not say that aloud back here?" I pleaded.

"Everyone knows. Well, I don't know if Vince knows, but it's kind of a common knowledge thing that the two of you went out last week. So, spill the details. Spare me nothing."

"There's nothing to tell. We were going to go out with Hunter and Steph, too, but after Stephanie attacked us, we both decided we didn't want to see her but we still wanted cheesecake. There was nothing crazy. We ate, talked about the business and left." I groaned. "I should have known Chris would find out. He was on me as soon as I got here. It was like he was waiting for me." I sighed. "Let me guess – Shane doesn't do this with any of the other girls."

"Not since Chyna."

"Yeah, he told me about things there. I guess she's been saying some things, but I haven't met her yet. Is she here tonight?" Trish shook her head.

"No – she's doing some TV stuff this week." Trish shook her head. "She was so nice to me when I met her, but then I read the things she said about me in her book. After that, I decided her friendship wasn't worth it."

"I haven't had a chance to read her book. What did she say?"

"She didn't specifically name me, but there aren't too many girls around here who wear cowboy hats with their gear," Trish said. She crossed her arms over her chest. "She wrote me off – pretty much called me a dime a dozen and said, in the end, I'd be back working some retail job, that I'm crazy to think I could take her spot."

"I don't understand why she thinks we're all out for her spot. I'm not looking to wrestle Triple H." I sighed. "I don't even know her." We walked into catering. I spotted Chris talking to Eddie and Dean. The guys waved to me, but Chris only acknowledged me with a curt nod. I sighed. "I should probably go talk to him."

We both got our cups of tea and I separated with Trish, approaching Chris and the guys. "Hi, guys."

" _Mamacita_ , you look so good in blue!" Eddie told me, walking over to give me a hug.

"Thank you, Eddie."

"I guess I'm wearing blue tonight," Chris commented, sipping his coffee. I saw Dean's lips purse into a narrow line, and I knew Chris had told the guys where I had been last week.

"I would have messaged you, but I didn't think you were going to answer."

"I'm not angry at you, Noa. I'm worried about you. I don't think you know what you're getting yourself into."

"I'm going to go get ready for my match," Dean said, cocking his head. Eddie left with him. I waved weakly to them as they left before I turned my attention back to Chris.

"Vince approached me earlier. He heard about you two getting together."

"Oh, God. I should have known..."

"Yeah. You should have. He was going to tear into you when you got here, but I talked him down. You're welcome, by the way. But you really have no idea what kind of game you're playing here." I shot him a look.

"I'm not playing any kind of game, Chris."

"Noa, I'm really trying not to be a pain in the ass here. But you've been here only a couple weeks and things are going so well. These rumors could seriously bring you down. The whispers...I don't want that for you. I want it to be known to everyone that you earned this. I don't..."

"I know, Chris. But _none_ of that is happening. At all. Not even a thought about it. He said it was a thing he usually does with Hunter and Steph, that after the shows they get together and critique things..."

"But they weren't there."

"No, because Stephanie attacked us. I probably should have said no, but I really wanted that cheesecake."

Chris sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "Next time, Noa, go to a hotel with room service. I promise you it'll save you all kinds of trouble. If Vince hears anything else, there's a good shot it could derail you before you even have a chance to get started."

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do here. Am I just supposed to ignore him?"

"No, I guess not. Just...use your judgment, okay? These one-on-one dates...it's highly suspicious, even if there's nothing going on." I nodded; as much as I hated to admit it, he was right.

"How did you find out?"

"Joanie – Chyna – she told me."

"Who all did you tell?"

"Just Eddie and Dean. Why?"

"I think she told everyone else. It was so frosty in that locker room I probably could have used a parka."

"Shit."

"Hey, Noa! Glad I ran into you."

I turned and saw Shane approach, a cup of coffee in his hand. Chris sucked in a breath. He stopped in front of the two of us, his eyes falling on Chris. "Hey, man. How's it going?"

"You know – living the dream."

"There's going to be a get together again this week, and I wanted to personally hand over an invite. Chris, if you aren't busy, you're invited, too. Bring Eddie and the guys if you want. We could make a party out of it." I shot a look at Chris, who seemed thrown off by the invitation.

"Yeah...I guess...I'll talk to the guys, but if not, I'll definitely come out." It took everything I had not to reach out and pinch Chris for giving me so much grief, only to cave when Shane asked _him_.

"Great. I'll catch you guys after the show. Good luck on your match tonight." We offered thanks for his endorsement and watched him leave. I turned to Chris and shook my head.

"Wow."

"What?"

"All the grief you gave me, and the second he asks you you fold faster than Superman on laundry day," I snorted.

"Hey – nobody thinks I'm fucking him." The look I gave him must have been priceless because he laughed.

"This conversation is over." I turned on my heels and walked away, his laughter ringing in my ears.

"See you out there, partner!"

* * *

What the hell are _they_ doing here?" Stephanie demanded as Chris and I approached her. She was dressed in a black long-sleeve shirt and a black fringed skirt with the clunky leather boots she had been wearing the week before. Her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, still crimped and wild. Beside her stood Hunter, dressed in an old Motorhead T-shirt and blue jeans, with his denim and leather jacket.

"I invited them. Hey, guys. I see Eddie, Dean, and Benoit couldn't make it."

"No. They decided to move to the next town." As a result of staying behind to "supervise" me, even if he says otherwise, I'm going to be driving Chris to the next town with me. "Sorry we're a little late, but Noa's absolutely shit with directions..."

"You were driving," I pointed out with a sigh. "He missed the turn."

"We did, too," Hunter confessed with a laugh.

"Hi, fellas!"

We turned as Kurt approached, flanked by Trish. "What a co-inky-dink to run into you guys," he said, the smile on his face so goofy that I wanted to laugh. Trish looked visibly nervous and Stephanie looked borderline rabid to see her. Shane shot me a look and I shrugged; I had no idea what he wanted to know, or what answers he thought I had about their presence in front of us.

"Hi, Trish," I greeted. Stephanie shot me a look, but I ignored it; whatever issues there were between Stephanie and Trish had nothing to do with me. When I had come back from my match earlier in the night, someone had hidden my bag. Trish returned it. She offered no answers, but I was just happy to have it back.

"Let's go in and get our grub on!" Kurt said, clapping his hands and rubbing them together. He walked past everyone and opened the door, calling for everyone to come through. I decided to hang back, cocking my head towards Shane.

"Is there something going on with those two that I should know about?" I asked. Shane shook his head.

"Just family stuff. Nothing that's going to affect the job." I nodded, opting to leave it at that. "But I don't think I need to remind you about Stephanie and her temper." I shook my head. "Just try and stay on her good side as best you can."

"And if I don't?"

"You're lucky I like you," he teased softly. Chris poked me in the ribs and I had this awful wish that he would just disappear. Grabbing my hand, he led me into the restaurant. Kurt was staring at me, giving me a wide smile. I offered a small one back at him.

I sat down beside Trish. Shane moved to sit beside me, but Chris was in that spot quick. Trish and I exchanged glances and did our best not to laugh. It was so obvious what Chris was doing, but we weren't about to call him on it. Shane cocked a quizzical eyebrow at me but took his place beside Stephanie. Hunter separated her from Kurt. I couldn't blame him; Kurt has been trying to come between their marriage for a few months now.

"Great match tonight, Rinoa. You've got something pretty special going on," Kurt commented.

"Thank you." I was sincere; having a gold medal Olympian praise my abilities

"If you ever need any pointers or anything, I'm always around to help out."

"Thank you." Chris nudged me. I shot him a look, exasperated. The waitress approached and Chris ordered a beer, receiving looks from everyone at the table. Stephanie ordered a lime water. Kurt ordered a cranberry juice. I ordered a virgin Daiquiri, and Trish ordered an iced tea. The waitress left.

"You're seriously making her drive the whole way?" Hunter asked, cocking an eyebrow at Chris.

"She volunteered." I wanted to say something, but I clamped my mouth shut and nodded when Hunter looked at me. I knew what he was doing; driving him to the next town was his form of punishing me for last week, for Vince approaching him. I was surprised that nobody came to get me, that Vince didn't approach me at all tonight. I spent the entire night waiting for the other shoe to drop, and I didn't even do anything wrong.

"You're quiet tonight," Shane observed to me.

"Am I?" I felt Stephanie, Hunter, and Kurt watching me and I found myself wishing I had come up with an excuse not to go. But I knew there was no way out once Chris had agreed to come out. "Sorry. Just a strange night."

I could tell Shane wanted to ask more about it, but I wasn't about to tell him anything with the others at the table. The waitress arrived with our drinks and we ordered our food. "I was re-watching your match with Manami Toyota last night," Hunter confessed. "You two had one hell of a feud."

"It was the good kind. She always made me want to improve and be better." I sipped my Daiquiri. "That woman is an absolute beast. I learned so much from her."

"Do you ever miss it back there?"

"Oh, of course. Japan is beautiful. But it's nice to be on home soil, too. I know my parents probably think it's nice, too. I grew up in Sacramento, but they relocated to Spokane just after I left for Japan."

"So you're in Spokane?" Hunter asked. I shook my head.

"No. For the first few months when I came home I set up in Atlanta, but after a while, I decided to head back to Sacramento. Chris has been trying to talk me into Florida, but I just...I love my hometown too much. Plus, I found a cute little place on the beach."

"You and Chris are close, huh?" Shane asked. I nodded.

"He's the big brother I never wanted."

"See the way she talks to me?" he asked Trish. She bit back a snicker as she took a sip of her drink.

"I owe a lot to Chris, in all seriousness," I told him. "He's done so much for me, and I don't think I'll ever repay him properly for it. I probably wouldn't be here if it weren't for him."

"I guess driving him to the next town is a good start," Hunter pressed. I almost choked on my drink. "You've got to be super familiar with her work now, Shane – did you see her C4 match in Seoul?"

Shane looked at me as if he were seeing me for the first time. "You?"

"Yeah. I have a scar on my leg and on my arm from that match. Souvenirs."

"You don't exactly strike me as Queen of the Death Match," Shane retorted.

"I wasn't. I just wasn't afraid to throw down when I had to." I held up my forearm to Trish so she could see the scar just by my elbow. "It's not even the worst thing I've done to myself."

"What was the worst thing?" Kurt asked.

"I did a dive through a table on the outside and the metal on the table came up and stabbed me through the calf. I think I was twenty or so. It sidelined me for a while. But I was bleeding _everywhere_. Finished the match and then they got me in the ambulance. It was awful. I was in Germany at the time. I didn't tell my parents because I thought they were going to make me come home."

"Wasn't that the night I had to get you from the hospital?" Chris asked. I nodded. "Oh, shit. I remember that. I've never seen so much blood in my life. She thought she was going to die."

"In my defense, I'd never seen that much blood, either." We all shared a laugh, quieting down when the waitress came with our meals. Stephanie was quiet, the whole time glaring daggers at Trish. I thought about pulling Trish aside and asking her what happened, but I came to the decision that I was too new to get involved. But I had a feeling that things were going to come to a head sooner rather than later.


	5. Media Day

Chapter 5: Media Day

* * *

The life of a WWF Superstar looks pretty glamorous from the outside, but it's a grind. A lot of people would love to do what I do for a living, but the sacrifices we make are astronomical. I've never been much of a sleeper; I'm the kind of girl that burns the midnight oil and is up at the crack of dawn three hours later to start the day. I've been that way ever since I was a little girl; my mom always tells me that I didn't start sleeping through the night until I was two.

After the show the night before, I once again went out with Shane, Hunter, Stephanie, Kurt, Trish and Chris. I'm pretty sure at this point Chris has taken it upon himself to act as my chaperone. He's staying at another hotel, but he decided to escort me back to the hotel and see to it that I made it to my room. It's hard to feel like he doesn't trust me, for reasons that are in his head. I fell asleep, waking up when my alarm went off three and a half hours later.

It's my first time doing a media day for the WWF, and I'm pretty nervous I'm going to blow it. I changed into a pair of dark blue jeans and a white tank top underneath a black blazer. A silver locket with my parents photographs inside and a ponytail completed my look. I opted against wearing heels and went with super clean white sneakers. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and yawned. The phone on the desk rang and I went to answer it.

"Hello?" I greeted with another yawn and a stretch.

"Good morning. This is your wake-up call." I blinked; the voice sounded familiar.

"Shane?"

"Good guess."

"Why aren't you asleep?"

"Because I'm a McMahon – I don't sleep." I had to smile at that. "I figured you'd be awake already, but I just wanted to let you know that a car is going to arrive to pick you up in about ten minutes to take you to Good Morning St. Louis. Are you ready for this morning?"

"I'm a little nervous," I confessed. He scoffed.

"You'll do fine. I have nothing but faith in you." I felt my insides flutter when he said that. "Besides, I had a feeling you'd be nervous, so I made some arrangements." I blinked.

"Arrangements?"

"You'll see. Have fun this morning. I'll be watching." He hung up, and I found myself curious about what he had planned. I looked around the room and made sure I had everything I needed. I put my wallet in my back pocket, grabbed my bags to take to the show and left my key-card in the room. It was my plan to check out early and spend the day at the arena. Instead of staying another night and flying out, I'm driving to the next town with Trish after the show.

I checked out at the desk and posed for a couple of pictures and signed a couple of autographs until I saw the black SUV park outside on the curb. I said goodbye to the fans and made my way outside. It was still dark, the streetlights were still on. The back driver's seat opened and I was surprised when Chris got out, armed with a cup of coffee in each hand. "Chris? What are you...?"

"Shane asked me if I'd accompany you. Not because he thinks you can't do it, but because he thinks it'll put you at ease a little more your first time out. Ready to bust your morning cherry?"

"Jesus Christ." I found myself laughing, thanking him for the coffee as I took it from him. He rounded the SUV and got into the backseat. I got inside and put the cup in the holder, shutting the door behind me. I fastened my seat-belt.

"Shane didn't tell you I was coming?"

"No. He just told me he arranged a surprise."

"He would." The car drove away from the curb. I could tell Chris wanted to ask more, but he wasn't about to do it with an outsider in the driver's seat. "Are you ready for this?"

"I am. At least, I think. I've never had to do media day before."

"It can be pretty fun. I guarantee you someone's going to ask you to put them in a headlock. It seems like every reporter asks that," Chris said with a snort as he sipped his coffee. I laughed.

"I've noticed that."

"You'll do fine. You got this laid-back thing to you that I think interviewers are going to love."

"You've always had far too much confidence in me," I informed him. He scoffed.

"You just don't believe you're as good as you are. You're fine."

"You're talking nice for someone who's been so mad at me lately," I told him, staring out the window.

"You're practically a little sister, Noa. At the end of the day, I still like you."

"I guess there's that," I said. We exchanged glances at each other and laughed.

The SUV pulled up beside the Good Morning St. Louis building and one of the techs opened our doors for us to get out. There was still plenty of time for the two of us to get ready, so we weren't rushed into the building. There were a couple fans waiting outside, the group stunned to see me with Chris Jericho. We posed for pictures and signed autographs and Chris had to console a young fan who cried when his eyes fell on Chris, his idol. It was a really sweet sight. After a few minutes we had to pull ourselves away and go into the building. One guy got upset, but we were on a schedule.

* * *

I was relieved when the interview went well. Chris turned on his charm and covered for me whenever I found myself getting uncomfortable and feeling awkward. It was just past seven when we left the studio. We took pictures and signed autographs for the hosts and the crew members. Chris and I stopped by catering and got another cup of coffee. "So next up is the radio station to promote tonight's show," I said with a yawn.

"I love doing radio interviews," Chris told me. He fell silent for a second. "It's really cool that Shane set this up this morning. I couldn't think of anyone better to do this with. Well...probably Eddie."

"I'd say something, but yeah – it would be fun to do a media day with Eddie," I said with a laugh. "I can't disagree there." We walked out of the doors to the back where the SUV was waiting and there were throngs of fans. Professional wrestling is a huge business in Japan, and I have to say that it's crazier here right now. Over here in North America, it's almost like we're rock stars. All of us are household names, something I never thought would happen to me growing up.

"It sure wasn't like this in Japan, hey?"

"No, it wasn't. All of this...it's kind of overwhelming," I confessed. "I mean, WCW was big, but nobody really seemed to know that I worked there after a while. Unless you're an NWO guy, or already established or Goldberg, I mean..." I trailed off, staring out the window. I knew I didn't have to say anything more; Chris understood the struggle at WCW as well as I did. As much as I respected his decision and admire the guts it took, it always surprised me that he never jumped at the chance to join the NWO, to get in on the red-hot action. Chris never second-guessed the decision.

"Have you been sent down to The World yet?" he asked. I shook my head.

"No. I'd love to make my way over there at some point. I wanted to go when I was with WCW, but I thought that just had bad idea written all over it," I confessed sheepishly. Chris nodded.

"Yeah. I don't know who would have blown a bigger gasket," Chris answered. "Who are you riding with tonight?"

"Trish and Lita. We're kind of falling into a routine between the three of us."

"That's good. You know you're always welcome to ride with us."

"I know. But it's nice to kind of make friends in my locker room, too. Lord knows I could use them right now."

"Things are still a little frosty?" he asked. I nodded.

"Yep. I'm pretty sure it's whatever rumor is going around. I can't think of anything else I've done. I've tried to follow everything to the letter." I sighed, staring out the window. "It's just one of those things, I gotta keep my head down and work through it."

"I warned you about this, Noa."

"I guess." Chris wanted to say something else, but the car turned into the parking lot of the radio station, where we were once again greeted by a giant crowd of fans. I rolled down the window and waved to them.

* * *

After the show, which saw me defeat The Kat in a two minute match with Stephanie on commentary, the group once again got together for our weekly date at the local coffee shop. Chris, Stephanie, Shane, Hunter and I were the first to arrive. The five of us stood outside in the parking lot, waiting for Kurt and Trish to arrive. Stephanie was dressed in a pair of black slacks and a Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley T-shirt, her hair pulled back in a low ponytail. We were talking when Kurt's car pulled up. Stephanie turned her attention to the car and she shot a disgusted look at Shane.

"Why does _she_ keep getting invited?" Stephanie asked.

"Because she's a friend of Rinoa's," Shane answered, plastering a plastic smile to his face and waving at the duo as they approached. I could feel Stephanie glaring at me, but I kept my gaze ahead. Kurt gave me a giant grin as he approached. He moved, arms wide, as if he were expecting a hug, but Chris was quick on the draw, stepping between us and slapping his hand with Kurt's.

"Hey," Chris greeted. There was a flash of disappointment on Kurt's face as his blue eyes fell on me.

"Hi, Rinoa. Good match tonight."

"Thank you." We walked towards the door. Hunter opened it for us, and Stephanie and I walked through with a token of gratitude for his manners. Kurt went to walk through, but he walked into the door. Chris and I turned to see Kurt seething on the other side of the door. I could hear Hunter clear as a bell: "My fingers slipped." I had to bite back a snicker; Hunter had done it on purpose, and we all knew it.

Chris tapped me on the arm, motioning for me to follow Stephanie towards the table in the back. It was late, but there were a few fans in there who gaped at us in shock as we went to take our seats. Kurt and Hunter joined us, Hunter making sure to take the seat between Stephanie and I. Chris sat on the other side of me, beside Shane.

"Let's see what this place has," I said, picking up a menu on the table. Scanning it, my eyes lit up. "Oh my God!"

"What?" Shane and Chris asked in unison. I looked up at both of them, and I'm sure I looked like a child on Christmas morning who just got something she really wanted.

"This place has so. Much. Cheesecake." Chris and Shane laughed. "Oh, God, how do I pick?"

"I wanted to say – for a woman, you've got one of the nastiest finishers right now," Hunter told me. I shot him a blank stare, blinking. The menu was still in my hands.

"Wow. Thanks. But that didn't sound sexist _at all_ , between you and I." I looked down at the tea selection while the whole table laughed. Hunter flushed.

"We're not really going there, are we?" he asked. Shane cocked his head and grinned.

"I don't know. I think I'm with Rinoa here..."

"Oh, there's a surprise," Hunter said with a snort. I felt myself blush right down to my toes and I averted my gaze back to the menu. I had absolutely nothing to say to that.

"Don't flip this around on me – this is about your rampant sexism. Seriously, Steph, you saw this and thought, 'Let's get hitched'?" Kurt's smile was wide. I had to hide my face in the menu and bite my lip to keep from laughing. Hunter's glare was ice cold; I could feel it.

"I was paying you a compliment," Hunter sputtered. "You know that, right?"

"I do. I was just teasing."

"Shane, you're a fucking prick," Hunter informed him.

"Yeah, well, you're in this family now, so suck it up, princess." Stephanie's face dropped, and for a moment I thought there was going to be a brawl at the table. Instead, Hunter laughed. The waitress approached and we all ordered our coffee and tea. When they disappeared, Hunter decided he wasn't quite finished with me yet.

"So, I heard through the grapevine that someone was a little starstruck tonight..."

"Oh, damn it, Hunter," I said with a laugh.

"Dwayne can't keep a secret to save his life. I heard all about it," Hunter told me. "Just for the record – he is a married man, Rinoa."

"Oh, Jesus..." I put my head in my hand, not sure whether I wanted to laugh or cry. Despite the constant bickering within the group, I have to admit the weekly coffee dates have become one of my favourite things. We interact with fans, talk about our matches and what we hope to accomplish, and it gives me a chance to make some friends. Between Chris, Stephanie, Shane and Kurt, I knew that I could learn a lot just by listening to them.

A mother approached the table and asked if her son could get a picture. Hunter was firm, yet polite, raising his voice to let the semi-empty place know that after we ate, we were more than happy to take pictures and sign autographs. For a guy who can be such a rebel, I was impressed by his poise in the situation. Stephanie didn't look too thrilled at the thought of staying in this building with Trish any longer than she had to, and I found myself wondering just what was happening between the two of them.


	6. Unforgiven Approaches

Chapter Six: Unforgiven Approaches

* * *

Stephanie McMahon is by no means the best wrestler on the roster, but she's a powerful woman nonetheless. I know that defeating Stephanie at _Unforgiven_ and winning the Women's Championship will put a lot of eyes on me. When I became number one contender I tried to see if my parents could get the time off work to come see it, but they couldn't. They promised me they would be watching from home, cheering me on, my number one fans. It's hard to swallow the disappointment that they won't get to see it in person, though.

 _Unforgiven_ is looking like a stacked card from top to bottom. Chris has a match against X-Pac. Hunter's facing off against Kurt Angle, and I'm betting that Hunter is looking forward to getting his hands on the medallist. It's an open secret that Kurt is infatuated with Stephanie, and I'm sure Hunter is looking to stake his claim. I have to hand it to Kurt; he's done an incredible job getting inside Hunter's head and putting a wedge in the middle of their marriage. The tension in front of and behind the camera is enough to give anyone a headache.

Tonight _Raw_ is live from the Joe Louis Arena in Detroit, Michigan. I arrived at the arena with plenty of time to spare, dressed in a long olive boat-neck sweater that fell to the top of my thighs and black tights. Ballet flats, a low ponytail, and a statement necklace finished my look. I shook hands and greeted everyone with the enthusiasm that was quickly becoming my calling card. It's hard for me to be down; when you're living the dream, every night is a good night.

Stopping by the match card, I saw Jacqueline and I are supposed to team up to take on Trish and the Kat, with Stephanie sitting on commentary. Readjusting my bag over my shoulder, I walked to the Divas locker room. Jackie was in there with Terri Runnels. Jackie was tying the knot in her shiny red top. She turned to face me and smiled. "Hey, Rinoa. You ready for the match tonight?"

"I am. I've even got my red outfit so we'll look like an actual tag team." I passed her, placing my bag down on the bench. I unzipped it, pulling out my outfit. I had to search for the boot covers.

"Are you ready for _Unforgiven_?" she asked.

"I think so. I'm pretty nervous, but I'm excited." I found my boot covers and dropped them onto my outfit. "I've been women's champion over in Japan, but this is different. This is the top of the mountain in North America."

"I'm sure you'll do fine. Shane seems to think so." I stopped what I was doing, dropping my top. I turned to Jackie.

"I know everyone's been a little bit cold about that. What's being said? Be honest with me, please."

"Not a whole lot. Just that he's paying a lot of attention to you," Jacqueline told me. I looked at Terri, who nodded. "Is there something going on between the two of you that we should know about?"

"No. Not at all. That would be the worst idea ever, wouldn't it?" I asked. Jacqueline and Terri nodded, but I got the feeling they were both skeptical of my answer. "Sorry to disappoint everyone, but I'm as boring as they come."

"Okay."

"Is it seriously impossible to have guy friends here?" I asked. Jackie shook her head.

"No. It's just...well...everyone's noticed the way that he looks at you..."

"Oh, no. We are _not_ going there." I began to get changed. "Besides – a guy like Shane McMahon? He's probably got a girlfriend or a wife or a very long list of ladies in waiting. Guys like him don't stay single long."

"I have it on very good sources that Shane is single and ready to mingle," Jackie told me with a grin. She shrugged. "If he looked at me the way he looks at you, I'd be all on that. Just saying."

"Be my guest, then." I shook my head.

"Oh, don't be like that," Jackie chastised with a laugh. "Look, Shane did have a girlfriend up until about a year and a half ago. She used to come around here all the time. Her name was something with an A...Alicia..."

"Amanda."

"Thanks, Terri. She followed him like a second shadow. He looked at her the way he looks at you."

"And how does he look at me?" I asked. Jackie grinned and I shook my head. "So what happened with this girl?"

"She died."

"Oh, shit. That's awful. What happened, do you know?"

"She was killed in a car accident. The girl was on her way to a family dinner while Shane was overseas doing a tour. She hit a deer and ended up impaled on the antler. Awful business. Shane kind of disappeared for a while after that. He only really started coming around again a couple months ago. He doesn't talk about any of that with anyone here, though, but I'm sure he's still struggling." I sat down and began pulling the boot covers up, stunned by Jackie's revelations. I had no idea he was harboring so much pain. There wasn't a part of me that could fathom how anyone could bounce back from something like that.

I stood. "I'll meet you at Gorilla. I'm going to hit hair and makeup."

"Sounds good. We got this tonight."

"We do." I left the locker room and made my way down the hall. I spotted Shane and Stephanie talking with Hunter and Pac in catering. Shane spotted me and flashed me a subtle wink. I gave him a quick wave but kept moving. Their conversation looked intense, and I knew I didn't belong there at the moment. I found hair and makeup a minute later and let the girls work their magic. All I could think about was Jackie's tale of Shane and Amanda.

* * *

The tag team match wasn't particularly memorable, but it wasn't the fault of any of us. Out of the four of us, Kat seemed the least competent in the ring. I hardly know her because she changes in Chyna's locker room, but I do know that Kat's not a popular presence in the locker room. Lisa – Ivory – let it slip that she was convinced Kat was there because she was young, hot and married to commentator Jerry Lawler.

While I tangled with Kat, I found myself nervous that I was going to hurt her by the way she took the moves. The entire time, I found myself also trying to keep an eye on Stephanie and Hunter at ringside. They sat with the WWF title and the Women's Championship over their shoulders, Hunter cracking his gum and grinning. He was dressed in one of his Game Over T-shirts and blue jeans, his blonde hair down and topped with a leather cap. Stephanie wore a pair of tight khakis and a sleeveless black turtleneck. Thick clunky boots and a ringed belt completed her look. She watched me, her face in what I could only describe as a pout.

Hunter stood, and I was distracted momentarily. I felt somebody crash into me and I fell off the apron, hitting the ground. Down on the ground, I saw Stephanie stand, putting her title down on the chair before she approached me. Then she was kicking me over and over again. I heard the bell ring, and I knew the match had been thrown out, that Jackie and I had won by disqualification. There was nothing to be happy about, as Stephanie straddled me and began slapping me, her hands flying faster than I could cover my face. When she was satisfied that I'd had enough, she got up and stomped over to the chair, picking up her title and returning to me.

"This," she began, her voice filled with unbridled rage, "is _mine._ It's mine, and I will go through _everybody_ to keep this." With that, she kicked me as hard as she could. It was if all the air had been taken out of my lungs. I curled into the fetal position and tried to catch my breath.

The crowd was booing raucously, and they were throwing things at Stephanie. My face was on fire; I had no idea what happened to my partner. Trish and Kat were probably long gone. After Stephanie and Hunter left me, it took a few tries before I was able to sit up. I turned my head to see Stephanie walking backward up the ramp.

"See you at _Unforgiven_ ," I heard her say on the Titan Tron.

The referee helped me to my feet, and after that, I brushed him off. On the screen, I could see my face was lit up like a Christmas tree, and she had caught me in such a way that my right eye was swelling. I made a beeline to the back, not stopping to slap hands with anyone. I was infuriated. There's something about getting repeatedly struck in the face that puts a real damper on a girl's night.

Stepping through the curtain, Shane was waiting for me with a bag of ice in his hand. "Hey. I thought you could use this," he told me, holding it out for me to take.

"My hero," I said dryly, wincing as I put the ice to my cheek.

"I think she hit you harder than she did last time," he commented. I shot him an exasperated look.

"She _did_ hit me harder than last time," I confirmed. I huffed when I saw Kurt approaching from the corner of my eye. He approached me as if I had just escaped from a burning building, full of urgent panic.

"I just saw what happened out there, Rinoa. Are you all right?" he asked. I shot Shane a look. He shrugged.

"I'm just peachy," I told him, plastering a grin on my face. He's trying to put the moves on Stephanie, and for that reason alone I don't want to make him a confidant. "If you guys will excuse me, I'm going to go and clean up." I turned my attention back to Shane. "Thank you for the ice."

"Don't mention it. But just a suggestion, from me to you?" I nodded. "Before you clean up, go see Foley." I looked into his eyes and nodded. I left quickly, making a beeline to the commissioner's office in the laundry room of the arena.

* * *

I clutched the ice pack to my cheek and did nothing to hide the anger I felt at being humiliated. Mick Foley sat on the other side of the table in the laundry room, in a plaid shirt and a T-shirt that read COMMISSIONER. He was trying to calm me down and failing miserably.

"Rinoa, I need you to calm down..."

"No, Mick, I will _not calm down_. How in the hell do I have a fair shot at _Unforgiven_ when she has almost half the locker room at her disposal? She always has somebody doing her dirty work for her – it's like I need eyes in the back of my head 24/7!"

"Welcome to the WWF."

" _Mick_!"

"Okay, okay, Rinoa. Calm down. Here's what I propose – I'll ban everyone from ringside. I'll ban the entire locker room from ringside. If anybody interferes, they'll be suspended immediately without pay. Does that work for you?"

I smiled. "That's all I want."

"Well, it's done. Now go and get yourself cleaned up." I threw the bag of ice on the table and left.

* * *

When I got back to the hotel at the end of the night, I changed into a pair of black shorts and a baggy Superman T-shirt. There was a bruise forming underneath my right eye from the force of Stephanie's slaps. The events of the night left me exhausted, and I was looking forward to crashing. If I was lucky, I could get more than three and a half hours of sleep before flying home tomorrow.

I left the arena quickly after the show, hoping to avoid Shane and Stephanie. The McMahon family has a way of turning lives upside down, and with the way the girls are talking, I'm finding myself conflicted and hyper aware of how much time I've been spending with them. Jackie was trying to put ideas in my head that was just not going to happen; Hell had a better shot of freezing over. I doubt he's thinking about relationships, given his current situation and with everything I'm doing, I'm not sure how I juggle it.

Part of me wondered if I'd get to fall asleep with all the thoughts in my head, but I was relieved when I opened my eyes and saw the sun beginning to rise.


	7. Road Trip

Chapter 7: Road Trip

* * *

The Monday night before _Unforgiven_ once again saw Stephanie standing dominant heading into our match. When she found out about her cronies being banished from ringside, Stephanie went _postal_. She caught me in catering, and the two of us ended up going up and over the tables. We knocked everything over. In the ensuing chaos, I landed on my head and ended up with a cut on my forearm that required six stitches to close. I also burned my leg.

I left the trainer's room bandaged and irritated. My calf burned. Walking back towards the Divas locker room, I turned the corner and careened into Chyna. She was bigger than me in every conceivable way; taller, wider, with muscles in places I didn't know could muscle. She was dressed in a pair of tight blue jeans and a black T-shirt stretched so tight it was practically see-through. Her black hair was pulled back with a black headband, curled and falling down her back. Her makeup was downright glamorous. If she had been smiling instead of sneering, she would have looked beautiful.

"Watch where you're going," she snapped. I took a step back and put my hands up.

"Sorry." I moved around her to leave.

"You're the new girl. The one from WCW," she called after me. I stopped and turned to her, nodding. "You're the one who's been hanging around Shane."

"One and the same, I guess." She looked me up and down like she was sizing me up.

"We did just fine here without you," she informed me.

"I never said otherwise." She looked me up and down once more and shook her head.

"A word of advice, from me to you?" she said. I nodded. "Stay away from the McMahon family. They'll chew you up and spit you out and they won't think twice about it. Take it from me." She looked at me for a second and walked away, looking over her shoulder once more before disappearing from my view.

"Well...that could have gone a lot worse," I said with a sigh. I shook my head and continued my walk to the locker room. Rounding another corner, this time I crashed into Shane. "Jesus!" I gasped, startled when I collided with him.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I was just on my way to get a coffee," he offered. "How are you feeling? How's your arm, Noa?"

"Still there. She'll have to try harder next time." Shane laughed, and I suddenly found myself feeling a little better about my night. His smile felt contagious; I think it's because of the way his eyes sparkle when he laughs.

"Where are you headed?"

"Just to the locker room. I'm gonna clean up. As you can see, I'm still covered in catering."

"For the record, you look good in barbecue."

"I don't even know how to answer that," I said with a laugh.

"You're laughing. That's what I was aiming for. Come on – I'll walk with you to the locker room."

"Shouldn't you be manning the booth with Brisco?" I asked. He shrugged.

"He can handle it on his own for a few minutes. If I know him, he's happy to have a break." I nodded, pushing Chyna's warning out of my head and falling into step with Shane. "Are you ready for Sunday?" he asked.

"Oh yeah. No broken bones." I sighed. "With the way your sister has been getting the drop on me lately, I'm starting to wonder if I'm ever going to live up to your dad's expectations."

"I can say a lot about my old man, Noa, but I'll never call him stupid. He thinks you can handle this, and so do I." I looked at him and he gave me a reassuring smile. "Before your match on Sunday, come find me in Dad's office."

"Another one of your little surprises?"

"Maybe."

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

"I like to think so." He stopped, and I did the same. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I insisted.

"Noa..." I sighed.

"I met Chyna. That's all. I don't think she likes me very much." He gave me a once-over as if he doubted my story. Then, he nodded thoughtfully.

"I don't think she likes anyone these days," he confessed. "I've tried talking to her, but she's not interested in anything I have to say, so there's not really anything I can do there." I wondered how deep their friendship went since he seemed so bothered by Chyna's change in attitude. We stopped in front of the Divas locker room. I leaned against the wall, my good arm crossed over my chest and holding onto my injured arm. "It's got nothing to do with me, but it's guilt by association, since...you know..." I nodded. "What are you doing tonight?"

"Driving to the next town after the show. Advil. Your sister has a hell of a tackle."

"I guess that runs in the family." I nodded.

"I'm not surprised. You're built like you've played some football."

"Just high school. Like I was ever going to do anything other than _this_ ," he replied, motioning to the area around us. We shared a laugh.

"Yeah. I guess there wasn't much choice. Four generations in, it's the only thing to do."

"Oh. You do your reading, don't you?" he teased.

"I read a lot. Some flights are long."

"You read about me. I'm so flattered."

"Oh, God. This conversation is over," I told him with a laugh.

"What?"

"Get back to work, Slacker," I said over my shoulder. We laughed and I walked into the Divas locker room. Trish was in there with Nora when I walked in. They looked up and saw the bandage on my forearm.

"I thought that was a heck of a spill," Nora commented. I nodded.

"Advil never looked so good tonight," I told them. "Did it at least look like I got a good shot in?"

"Humiliating Stephanie is probably worse to her than getting hurt," Trish told me. Nora nodded.

"You're probably right about that," I said with a sigh, sitting down in a steel folding chair.

"Nora's going to ride with us if that's cool," Trish said. I nodded.

"Totally cool. I'm going to clean up. I don't think I'm going to want to smell barbecue sauce again for at least a few weeks." I gathered my shower things out of my bag and went into the shower area. I suddenly felt exhausted.

* * *

" _...You and OG are gonna make some cash; sell a million records and we're making a dash..."_

The three of us drove down Interstate five, loudly singing "This Is How We Do It" at the top of our lungs. Trish and I had bonded over a love of nineties hip-hop on one of our first trips together. Nora sat in the backseat, doing her best "Raise the Roof" dance. The windows were down, the roads were empty, and it was easily in my top five road trips.

"Oh, I'm buzzing because..." Trish sang.

"This is how we do it!" Nora and I shouted before breaking into a fit of giggles. Trish turned down the radio.

"So, a little birdie told me you ran into Chyna tonight," Trish told me. I nodded. "How did that go?"

"Fine. It could have gone worse. She did the same 'the McMahon family is evil' spiel that Chris has been giving me." I had taken over driving after our last stop at the gas station. I kept my eyes on the road. "She was upset because I didn't see her coming out of the trainer's and I bumped into her. She and Shane used to be friends, huh?"

"Yeah. He was her first pick to take to the Emmy awards because she was fighting with Hunter," Trish told me.

"So this was before they split?" I asked. Trish shook her head.

"That whole situation is a mess, Noa. It's best not even to ask. I don't think I could properly explain it."

"Ah. I gotcha." We fell silent. _This is How We Do It_ changed to _Ice Ice Baby_. "Shane seems pretty sad about the way things are with her now, though."

"I'm sure he is. He saw her as one of his best friends. But being Stephanie's brother doesn't do him any favors in this situation." I nodded. "Just remember, Rinoa: there are two sides to every story, and the truth is often somewhere in the middle." I nodded.

"You're probably right about that."

"Did you see Shane tonight?" Trish asked. I didn't have to answer. "Of course you did."

"I ran into him just after running into Chyna. I literally spent most of my night playing bumper cars with people."

"So what did he have to say?"

"Nothing. He just asked if I was ready for Sunday and he asked how my arm was." I shook my head. "I have no idea why it's so hard for everyone to believe that we're just work friends."

"Work friends?"

"I don't see him outside the ring much. It's pretty much just a work thing."

"Do you think...?"

"Nope. Not going there."

"Oh, come on. It's just between us girls, right, Nora?"

"Right," she echoed from the backseat.

"There's nothing to talk about. And besides, one slip from one of you and someone's going to try and hide my bag again, and I don't want to deal with that." I shook my head. "And people keep asking if it could be a thing, and no, it can't. Because if I do that, then everything I accomplish here gets an asterisk."

"Fair enough." There wasn't really any way to argue with those facts. In the month I've been in the WWF, I've heard the whispers about Hunter. People who probably trusted and liked him before now give him the side-eye because of his relationship with Stephanie. I don't know how he shoulders that burden without hesitation; it's a lot to handle.


	8. Unforgiven

Chapter 8: Unforgiven

* * *

 _Unforgiven 2000_ took place at the First Union Centre in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Sleep the night before had been almost impossible; I felt like a kid trying to fall asleep on Christmas Eve. I arrived dressed in black slacks and a red cardigan with the first two buttons undone and belted at the waist. I got my bag out of the trunk of my car and took a moment to catch my breath. Two months ago, I couldn't get thirty seconds on TV and now here I am, competing for the Women's Championship against Stephanie McMahon.

I stopped to take pictures with fans who wished me luck, and I signed a ton of autographs. It was the general consensus among the fans that it was time for Stephanie to let go of the title, and I was touched that they all had the confidence that I was going to be the girl to do it. I told them all to enjoy the show and went into the arena, dropping off my bag at the women's locker room before going to find Vince's office.

Stopping in front of the door, I knocked. "Come in!" I heard a voice call from the other side. It wasn't Vince; I knew right away it was Shane. I opened the door and walked inside, where Shane was leaning against the desk, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. He was dressed in black slacks and a red button-down shirt. He looked good in red.

"Hey, Noa," he greeted, the smile never leaving his face. "Are you ready for tonight?"

"As ready as I'm ever going to be," I said with a sigh. "What's up? What did you want to see me for?"

"I have something I want to show you." He turned and grabbed a small black box. I cocked an eyebrow as he handed it to me. Opening the box, I was greeted with a long gold nameplate that read RINOA. I looked up at him.

"What's this?"

"It's a name plate. It goes on the Women's Championship. I wanted to show you it before your match. A little touch of motivation," he said. I shook my head, reading my name over and over again.

"Not sure it helps," I said. "I'm still pretty nervous."

"Eh, I'd be more worried if you weren't. A lot of girls would kill to be in your position tonight; my sister hasn't endeared herself to _anybody_ ," he reminded me. I nodded, unable to keep the laughter from spilling from my lips. I stood.

"Thank you. For everything. I know I haven't really said that, but I just want you to know," I told him. "I hate to cut this short – I really need to go and get ready for tonight."

"I know you do. For the record, between you, me and the fence post – I think you've got this tonight."

"Thank you."

"Break a leg out there. Preferably not yours." I laughed and left him. I had new gear made for my big match tonight, a one piece outfit with a corset designed with colourful gems. It was in shades of blue and violet, with matching arm bands and boot covers.

Inside the Divas locker room, I found Trish with Lita, Jackie, Nora and Terri. None of them were competing at the show tonight, though it was a given that Lita was going to get involved in the cage match between Edge, Christian and the Hardy Boys later on in the night. Even though they were keeping it quiet, it was the worst kept secret in the company that Lita and Matt Hardy were dating.

Jackie was dressed in her workout clothes, a pair of baggy grey sweatpants and a low-cut black spaghetti-strapped tank top, her hair pulled back into a high braided bun. Trish was sitting in a chair, her feet up on the bench, dressed in baggy blue jeans and a white T-shirt, her bleached blonde hair in a high ponytail. Lita looked like she was ready to go to the ring, dressed in a Hardy Boys T-shirt tied at the waist over a red fishnet top and baggy blue pants with her zebra print thong sticking out.

"There's our new Women's Champion," Trish hollered when she saw me. The girls clapped their hands and I felt myself blush. Whatever frostiness had been lingering over the past few weeks seemed to have disappeared. I laughed.

"Thanks. You guys are the best." I put my bag down on the bench and began pulling out my gear. Trish whistled.

"Nice outfit."

"Thanks. I had it made for tonight." I began to get changed. The butterflies in my stomach were fluttering wildly. I took the ponytail out of my hair and shook it out. I climbed into the outfit and zipped it up, leaving my black bra exposed. I got into the armbands. Trish whistled and I had to laugh. I sat down and put on my boots.

"What's the game plan?"

"Last Breath and a three count," I told the room. I put on the boot covers and stood. "I'm going to hair and makeup. If I don't see you guys before the match...I'll see you after."

"Nice," Trish said with a laugh.

"Good luck out there," they told me. I thanked them once again and left.

"Noa!"

I was just leaving hair and makeup when I heard the male voice call after me. Turning, I saw Chris jogging towards me, wrapping me up in his arms and giving me a hug, swinging me around. "Good luck out there tonight, Noa. I am so fucking _proud of you_!"

"Thank you," I said, laughing as he swung me from side to side before putting me down. He stepped back and took in the outfit. He nodded with approval.

"Looking good, Noa. You're ready for this."

"I like to think I am," I told him.

"I've gotta go for my match, but I wanted to quickly find you and wish you good luck and let you know how happy I am for you. You've earned this. You deserve this."

"Thank you, Chris. I'm glad you found me. Good luck out there tonight."

"You, too. By the end of the night, you're going to be Women's Champion." He left, and I watched him until he disappeared from my view. I stopped by a mirror backstage, looking at the blue and violet smoky eye and nude lip I was given. I didn't feel it, but I definitely looked ready.

* * *

I stood behind the black curtain, waiting for my music cue to start. I shot a look over at Shane, Vince and Brisco sitting at the table, feeling relieved when Shane shot me a reassuring smile. Every part of me was trying to stay focused, to keep my face intense, but I was having a hard time keeping a poker face. I was touched that everyone seemed to believe in me, and I only hoped that I wouldn't let anyone down.

The lights went out and I began jumping from foot to foot to get ready. Through a sliver in the curtains I could see the red and purple lights swirling through the crowd. When the music roared to life, I burst through the curtains like a bat out of Hell. I took a moment to stand on the stage and take in the moment. The crowd was cheering and the lights were bright. When I was convinced that everything was etched in memory, I walked down the ramp, slapping hands with fans when I reached the bottom. I climbed the steps and went over to the corner, standing on the second turnbuckle and staring out at the full stands. The cameras flashing were so intense I had to jump off and turn away.

My music faded into Stephanie's. The cheering abruptly turned to raucous boos as Stephanie stepped out, dressed in a white Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley T-shirt and black pants, the Women's Championship slung over her right shoulder. Her hair was wild and crimped. On the screen I could see that her eyes looked fearful, but her face was contorted in the trademark McMahon scowl.

Stephanie walked down the ramp, her hips swaying side to side. She climbed up the steps and the referee motioned for me to stay back. I put both hands up, motioning to the referee that I had no plans to attack before the bell. She climbed into the ring after yelling at the referee to keep me back. Readjusting the belt so she held it in both hands, she walked to the ropes and held it up to receive the loudest chorus of boos I have ever heard. Lowering the belt, she turned to me.

"This is mine," Stephanie informed me.

"Not after tonight," I told her. The referee took the title from Stephanie and held it up between us. We scowled at each other. He moved to the side to hand the belt off to the timekeeper, and Stephanie and I began circling the ring. I charged when the bell rang, but she backed away and got underneath the rope.

"Back her up! Back her up!" Stephanie barked. I raised my arms and backed away. Stephanie got back into fighting position and we circled the ring again. Once again I lunged and once again she was under the rope. After the third time, I pushed past the referee, grabbed her legs and pulled her away, slamming her down on the mat. Stephanie's back arched off the canvas and she rolled onto her side. Reaching down, I grabbed her by the hair and whipped her into the corner, following after her. Holding onto the top rope, I kicked her in the midsection over and over, moving away after three kicks. She buckled to her knees. Grabbing her by the hair, I threw her. She hit the mat, face-first, and lay still.

The crowd was cheering, but I had been expecting more of a fight out of Stephanie. "Not so hot without your crew behind you, are you?" I asked, approaching. I grabbed Stephanie by the hair and whipped her into the ropes. She ducked my clothesline, and when I turned around, I was kicked and dropped with a DDT that left me stunned on the canvas. Stephanie was on me quick, slapping me over and over again. The crowd was booing. Stephanie grabbed me by the hair and pulled me to my feet. With a snarl on her face, she reared back and slapped me, sending me back down to the canvas. She began kicking my ribs.

Pulling me up again, Stephanie swung her hand to hit me again. This time, I ducked underneath, wrapping my arm around her neck and hitting her with the Last Breath. Stephanie's breath left her body with a loud sound as my knees connected with her back. I quickly covered her and the referee hit the mat three times. The bell rang, the crowd roared and my music blared through the speakers.

"Here is your winner, and the _new_ Women's Champion..."

I lost my vision; it became blurred with tears. Down on my knees, the referee approached me and handed me the championship. I held it in my hands, feeling the leather and the gold plating. The tears were falling down my cheeks and I knew my makeup was completely ruined. My smile was so wide. Cameras were flashing and I sobbed with joy, standing to my feet, rubbing the face of the title with my hand.

Behind me, Stephanie left the ring in defeat, a referee helping her to the backstage area. I went over to the corner and stood on the second turnbuckle, raising the title high in the air. The cameras flashed and it felt like my heart was going to burst with happiness. At that moment, I didn't think I'd ever feel that kind of joy again. I didn't bother to wipe away the tears as I held the title up. Jumping off the turnbuckle, I slung the title over my shoulder and got out of the ring, slapping hands with fans at the bottom of the ramp.

I was still crying when I made my way backstage. Shane was already out of his seat, rounding the table and hugging me tightly. It was supposed to be congratulatory, but it only made me cry harder. "I'm sorry. I just...I can't believe it." The feel of the title was heavy on my shoulder. This was the opportunity WCW was never going to give me. One month into my WWF career, and I've reached the top of the mountain.

"Chris is just past the curtain. He wants to see you," Shane told me. "Wanna take a minute?"

"Yeah. He'll eat me alive if he sees me crying," I said with a laugh, wiping at my eyes. "How do I look?"

"Like you just won the biggest match of your career, Champ." I grinned. Vince came up to shake my hand and offer me a token of congratulations, even though my biggest moment in North America had come at the expense of his daughter. I thanked Vince for signing me, and believing in me. Then I left Gorilla, where Chris was waiting at the bottom of the steps, dressed in his tights and one of his T-shirts.

"Congratulations, Champ," he said, wrapping me in his arms. I laughed, fighting back the tears.

"Thank you. This is incredible." We pulled back as a runner approached, a young guy named Chris.

"Ms. Fielder, I need your title. We need to put the nameplates on."

"Sounds good." I handed him the title and he disappeared. I turned back to Chris.

"You deserve all of this," he told me. "I'm going to take you out and get you good and hammered."

"We will, after you take the 'Kick Me, I'm the Champ' sign off my back," I told him. He looked at me and cocked an eyebrow. I stared back at him. After a moment, he sighed and reached around me, pulling the paper off my back.

"How did you see it?"

"I didn't. I just know you _way_ too well, Chris."

"Fair enough." He smiled at me and I had to laugh. "Why don't you come back and watch the rest of the show with me and the guys? Then we'll go drinking. Does that sound like a plan?"

"It sounds like a hell of a plan. But I'm going to go clean up first."

"You're champion now. Make sure you look the part tonight."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said with a roll of my eyes. "I'll see you in a few." He nodded and we went our separate ways. "Grab me a Snapple!" I called after him.

"Already a Diva," he told me.

"Oh, you are going to get it..." I threatened with a laugh. I made a beeline to the locker room. I was looking forward to spending the rest of my night with my best friend.

* * *

"There's the champ!" Trish called out as I walked into the locker room. The girls applauded and I had to laugh.

"Thank you, guys," I said.

"No. Thank you for getting that belt off Stephanie," Trish told me. I sat down on the bench and began to take off my boot covers. I put them into my bag. "She got the upper hand for a few, but I knew she didn't have a shot in Hell."

"What are you up to tonight?" Jackie asked. I shrugged.

"Not too sure. Chris said he's taking me out, so you might have to ask him." I took off my armbands and put them in the bag. "I mean, you guys are all welcome. I just have no idea where we're going."

"I've never asked – what's up with you and Chris?" Trish asked. I smiled.

"I met Chris in Germany. We were both wrestling a show on the card. He approached me and kind of took on a mentor role with me. He's always been my biggest fan, offering me pointers and critiquing my matches and just kind of being there for me whenever I need him. I like to think of myself as his best student. I listen to everything he tells me. He's helped me so much."

"Have you two ever...?"

"Oh, God, no. That's just gross," I said. "He's like the brother I never wanted."

"Good to know," Trish said with a nod.

"Your mind is always in the gutter, I swear to God."

"Maybe. You still love me, though."

"I am going to have a shower," I told her with a roll of my eyes. Grabbing my shower things, I went to clean up so I could go enjoy the rest of _Unforgiven_ with Chris and the guys.

* * *

"Rinoa, hey, wait up!"

I stopped, turning to see Kurt approach. Freshly showered, I was dressed in a baby doll dress with a white lace halter bodice and a lavender skirt with white heels. Kurt was in his ring gear. He ran towards me as if I was going to run from him. Coming to a stop, he threw his giant arms around me and hugged me tight. I felt a jolt, but not the good kind. It was a weird feeling. "Congratulations," he said, his voice incredibly close to my ear. "I knew you could do it."

"Thank you," I said, trying to squirm out of his grip. He kept his hold on me.

"You got any plans tonight? After I beat Triple H, I'm thinking we should go celebrate."

"Thanks for the offer," I told him, putting my hands on his chest and pushing myself out of his grip, "but somebody beat you to the punch. I've got plans."

"Shane? It's Shane, isn't it?" he asked. I shook my head.

"Nope."

"I think that you and I should get together sometime," he told me. "I'd really love to hear about your time in Japan, and I could always give you some pointers from my days in the Olympics."

"I'll think about it, but I really do have plans for the night." He stepped back and examined every inch of me, it felt like. I felt kind of dirty underneath his gaze, and I found myself shifting. He smirked.

"It's a nice dress, but lavender's not really your color."

"Thanks for the head's up. I gotta go."

"Rinoa..."

"Good luck out there!" I called, not turning back. I wanted to put as much distance between him and I as I could.

* * *

Chris opened the door to his locker room and grinned.

"Hey, _Mamacita,_ where's your title?" Eddie called out teasingly. I sighed.

"That only happened once." The first women's title I ever won in Germany I had accidentally left behind at the bar. I had been absolutely terrified; I knew the promoter would have killed me if he knew. I was lucky that the bartender got his hands on it and kept it safe for me until I could return to the bar to get it. Chris had lectured me like crazy that night, drunk off his ass and repeating the same phrases over and over. "They are putting the nameplate on it. I should have it back by the end of the night.

Eddie moved over on the leather couch and I approached. I sat down between Eddie and Dean. Eddie draped his arm over my shoulders and pulled me close.

"I'm proud of you, Noa," he told me. I smiled.

"Thank you, Eddie. That really does mean a lot. But you guys keep this up and I'm going to cry, and if I do that, Chris is never going to let me hear the end of it."

"Which one?" Eddie asked, cocking his head. I sighed.

"Both of them."

"She's got a point," Benoit told me. He was sitting in a folding chair, leaned forward, his cold blue eyes fixated on the TV monitor. "There's no crying in wrestling, right?" When I didn't answer, he looked over at me. I quickly nodded. Satisfied, he turned his gaze back to the TV.

"Did you invite Shane to come out with us tonight?" Chris teased. I rolled my eyes.

"No. I invited the girls. I don't know who you've invited."

"I'm surprised..."

"Don't. Just...stop." We fell silent when Kurt Angle's music hit. Tonight, it was guaranteed that Stephanie was going to make a decision between her husband and Kurt. I had no doubt that she was going to pick Hunter. There was just something about Kurt that I couldn't put my finger on, and part of me had the feeling that Stephanie felt the same way.


	9. The Morning After

Chapter 9: The Morning After

* * *

I woke up Monday morning exhausted and hungover, in a crumpled heap on the floor by the entrance of my hotel room, with no memory of how I got there. Last night my party ended up merging with the Team Extreme party, and Extreme isn't just a tag line for those guys. Jeff started giving me Jager bombs, and I got drunk very fast. I woke up this morning on the carpet with the Women's Championship around my waist. It wasn't a dignified look by any stretch of the imagination. Lying on the floor, I thought about the last time I had been so inebriated; it was Kristen McMaster's house party when I was sixteen. I haven't touched red wine since.

There was pounding on the door, each knock making my head throb. I groaned. "Oh, please don't knock so loud..." I pleaded quietly. As if the person on the other side of the door was ignoring me, the knocking persisted. I slid my heels off and got to my feet, taking the Women's title off my waist and putting it down on the desk. I opened the door to find Shane standing on the other side with a cup of coffee in his hand.

"My hero," I grumbled, reaching out and taking the coffee from him. He shot me a look, but I took a big swig, grimacing. "Oh. This is yours. Here I thought you were being nice." I handed the coffee back to him. Shane walked into the room and shut the door behind him.

"Fun night last night?" he asked with a grin.

"The last time I got this drunk, I was at a house party and I wrecked white carpet by throwing up red wine," I confessed. Shane grimaced.

"Do you remember how you got back up to the room last night?" he asked. I shook my head.

"No. The last thing I remember, Chris was shoving me into a cab. After that, everything is a blank." I found that I was embarrassed to have let go so much the night before, especially after becoming Women's Champion. But I knew Chris would have seen it as a sacrilege if I didn't go out with him and celebrate.

"I can fill that in for you," he said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "I was with Show and saw you stumbling through the lobby, and I knew right away that you were wasted. We both brought you up here. We asked if we could help you, but you wouldn't let us in here. You said you could take it from there." He motioned to my appearance. "You probably needed the help, though, didn't you?"

"Yeah. I woke up on the floor," I answered, blushing with shame. Shane's eyes widened, but he laughed.

"Oh, I've been there a time or a hundred," he said. It was my turn to laugh. "What are you doing today?"

"Not a whole lot. A big and greasy breakfast and some good coffee I think is the game plan before anything else. No offence, Shane, but your coffee tastes like a sugar factory."

"We're going to be doing a photo shoot with you for the site tonight," Shane told me, ignoring my sugar slight. "So make sure you bring something you want to wear for the gallery tonight." I nodded.

"How is your sister this morning?"

"Oh, you mean the _former_ Women's Champion?" he asked. We laughed. "She's fine. I know some people don't believe it, but my sister's as tough as they come. But she's getting heckled this morning."

"Does she hate me? Because it seems like she doesn't like me much."

"It's just the way she is. She doesn't have a problem with you one way or the other." I nodded; part of me thought he was being honest, but a small voice in the back of my head was telling me that he was just trying to protect his sister and spare my feelings.

"What brings you up here?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I came to check up on you because I think someone figured out how to replace your blood with alcohol last night," he said, his brown eyes sparkling with humour. "I also came to tell you that I'm meeting Chris, Hunter and Steph for breakfast this morning, so if you're up for that greasy breakfast now, you're more than welcome to come with."

"Sure. Can I clean up a bit first?"

"Of course. If it's cool, I'm gonna check the sports scores from last night."

"Do your thing, Boy Wonder." He grinned. I gathered my bath bag and some clothing and disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door softly behind me.

Stepping underneath the stream of water, I let out a long sigh. The hot water felt good on my skin. I stretched and rotated my shoulder to try and work some of the stiffness out. There was a huge part of me that wanted to stay under the water for an hour and sweat the hangover out, but I stayed in long enough to wash my body and my hair before getting out. I quickly changed into a pair of black shorts and a long grey sweater that fell off my left shoulder, exposing black bra strap. It looked casual and relaxed, and it was the first items I grabbed. I walked out of the bathroom. Shane looked at me, and for a moment it looked as if he was somewhere else, thinking about and seeing something else.

"Shane?"

When he heard my voice, he snapped out of whatever reverie he was trapped in. "Yeah?"

"Are you okay? You kind of zoned out."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm cool," he said, shutting off the TV and standing. My eyes narrowed.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I'm good."

I pulled my hair into a messy bun and decided against wearing makeup. "I'm ready to go if you are," I told him, sliding into a pair of black flats. I yawned and grabbed my key-card, sliding it into my bra before leaving the hotel room.

* * *

The first thing I noticed when I walked into the restaurant with Shane was that Kurt Angle was staring at me from his table at the back of the restaurant. He was watching Shane and I very intently, but I'm not sure if Shane noticed because he didn't acknowledge the Olympian's presence. I felt a little strange about having breakfast with Stephanie after the night before, but when she saw the two of us, she waved us over.

"It's about time," Hunter murmured as we approached. We sat down across from them. "Good morning, Rinoa. I figured you'd be joining us this morning. How was your night last night?"

"Fine." I left it at that. I looked over at Stephanie. "Good morning."

"Good morning, Rinoa." If there was any bitterness over what transpired last night, I saw no sign of it. She was dressed in a navy blue tank top and black pants, her brown hair straight and pulled back in a low ponytail. Two strands framed her face. Hunter was dressed in a Motorhead T-shirt and jeans, his blond hair pulled back in a low ponytail.

"You hold more liquor than you used to," Chris informed me. "What happened last night?"

"I came back to the room and went to sleep," I answered quickly. Shane shot me a look and grinned. Before he could contradict my story, the waitress approached, a pretty young redhead with bright blue eyes. Shane, Chris and I ordered coffees; Stephanie ordered earl grey tea and Hunter ordered orange juice. The waitress left and we went back to our conversation.

"Jeff and I shut the bar down last night," Chris said with a shake of his head. I noticed he was still in his clothing from the night before, his blue jeans and Iron Maiden shirt rumpled, his hair dishevelled. Even though we were indoors, he wore sunglasses over his face.

"Hey. Mind if I join you?"

I stiffened because Kurt was incredibly close behind me. He didn't wait for any of us to give him an answer; he pulled up a chair and wedged himself between Chris and I. Shane and I exchanged looks; I think it was obvious that I was extremely uncomfortable. I noticed Kurt wasn't acknowledging Hunter and Stephanie's existence after his humiliation the night before. Stephanie had let him know in emphatic fashion that she was staying with her husband.

"Good morning, Champ. How are you this morning?" he asked.

"Fine," I answered.

"You look great." I blinked, unsure of how to answer that. Luckily, I didn't have to, since the waitress returned with our drinks. We ordered breakfast and she left.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Hunter asked. Kurt shook his head.

"Nope. Not for a little while." He turned back to me. "Rinoa's a beautiful name."

"Thanks." I looked at Stephanie, the two of us locking eyes, and it was obvious that we were both uncomfortable to have Kurt at the same table with us.

"How does it feel to be Women's Champion?" he asked.

"Great," I answered. I kept my answers short. I was trying to be polite, but I had this weird, slimy feeling on my bones. There was just something about him I couldn't put my finger on. Chris and Shane were watching the two of us interact very intently. Shane sipped his coffee. I went from being excited to have breakfast with friends to wishing it was over and I was back in the hotel room.


	10. Late Night Shenanigans

Chapter 10: Late Night Shenanigans

* * *

 _Raw is War_ was airing live from the Pacific Northwest, at the Key Arena in Seattle, Washington. It's a beautiful location, the birthplace of the grunge music movement. After getting myself settled, I found an empty space in the bowels of the arena and sat down on a long trunk. Once again the look was business casual, in blue jeans and a black tank top with a sweetheart neckline that showed off some cleavage. A tan blazer, tan shoes, and a statement necklace completed my look. My hair was down around my face in soft waves, getting in my way to the point that I wished I had thought to grab hair ties before leaving the Divas locker room. I sat alone on the trunk, working on ideas; I learned earlier in the night that my _No Mercy_ title defense was going to be a fatal four way against Tori, Kat, and Jackie. I was having some trouble, but I was determined to have some killer promo stuff written down by the end of the night.

"Hey, you. What are you doing back here in the middle of nowhere?"

I pulled my headphones off and turned to find Shane standing behind me, dressed in a white button-down shirt and dark blue jeans. I let my headphones rest around my neck. "Hey," I greeted. "Never mind me - what are _you_ doing back here? Don't you ever work?"

"Not if I can help it," he answered with a grin. "I'm just sneaking a break. Mind if I take a seat?" I shook my head and swung my legs over the side of the trunk so he had a space to sit. He took his place beside me, his eyes falling on the notebook. "What are you working on?" he asked. I shrugged.

"Just some promo ideas."

"Can I take a look at what you've got?"

"Well, if I did that, it would just kill the surprise, wouldn't it?" I teased. Shane shook his head. We were quiet for a few moments. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ears. "I'm sorry about this morning. I know breakfast was kind of awkward..."

"You don't have to apologize for anything, Noa. It wasn't your fault."

"Are you two friends?" I asked. Shane shrugged.

"More like acquaintances. He puts a lot of people off around here. He seems like an idiot, but he's as calculating as anyone else here. I like to keep him close so I can keep an eye on him when it comes to Stephanie."

"You're protective of your sister." He nodded.

"Of course I am. The name McMahon put a target on us, and there's a lot of guys back here that would love to get their hands on the Billion Dollar Princess. I mean, shit, I let my guard down once, and she ended up with Hunter. You understand, right?"

"I'm an only child, but Chris looks out for me the way a brother would, so I guess I get it." He nodded. "I'm sorry if I pushed and made you uncomfortable this morning. You just...you seemed out of it for a moment there."

"It's okay. I have moments here and there, but don't we all?" he said with a smile.

"Were you thinking about her?" Shane's head snapped to me. "Jackie told me about it a little while ago," I told him sheepishly. "I'm not going to push you, but I just want you to know if you ever need to talk, I'm not hard to find, okay?"

"Thank you. I appreciate the offer. Really, I do. You know how it is – some days are just worse than others." I nodded. I wrapped an arm around him and gave him a quick hug. He looked so sad. "Thank you."

"I'd give you a better one, but people like to talk around here," I said with a sigh. "What are you doing tonight?"

"Just going back to the hotel. I don't feel like doing the party thing today. How about you?"

"The guys and I are continuing the Women's Champion Party. You are invited."

"Thanks, but I don't think I'm in the mood tonight." I smiled.

"Cool. If you change your mind, I think we're heading to a place in town called Magma."

"I've heard of it." I got off the trunk. Checking my watch, I huffed. "I hate to cut our time short, but I need to go do that photo shoot." There was a beat of silence between us. "Seriously, if you need anything at all, don't hesitate to hit me up. You always seem to know where I am anyway," I teased. He blushed and looked down at his hands. "I'll talk to you later. Keep your head up, okay?" He nodded, and I felt bad about leaving him, but I did.

* * *

After changing into my ring gear, I went to the photo area and took my place in front of the white paper backdrop. With the Women's Championship over my shoulder, I struck a variety of poses. The only thing that didn't change was the smile on my face. It's taken a while, but I've finally gotten to a point where my photos don't look so awkward and uncomfortable.

From the corner of my eye, I saw the door at the back of the room open and Shane walked in. He didn't look happy. I felt him staring at me but I kept focus, but I could see him moving to sit down in a chair, a smile now on his face. My photo shoot lasted about twenty minutes, and I was honestly relieved when it was over. I've never been much for modeling. When it was over, I approached Shane.

"Sometimes I swear you're always two steps behind me," I teased.

"Can we talk?" he asked. I nodded. Following him out of the room, we began walking down the halls.

"What's up?"

"What do you think of Kurt Angle?" he asked.

"As a person?" I asked. He nodded. "This is between you and I, right? In confidence?"

"Of course."

"He creeps me out. There's something about him that's just...really sleazy. I can't put my finger on it. But he makes me kind of uncomfortable."

"Does he know where you're going tonight?" he asked. I shook my head.

"Unless one of the guys let it slip, but I don't see why they would. What's going on?"

"Just...keep an eye out for him, okay?" I cocked an eyebrow. "I have it on good authority that he is a little more than infatuated with you, and I just want to warn you in case you have a boyfriend or a husband at home..."

"I have neither, but thank you for letting me know." I stopped. He did the same. "Did he tell you this?"

"Not in those exact words."

"Oh. Say no more." I examined him. He looked exhausted. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I am. I'm looking forward to going back to the hotel. I was gonna drive to the next town, but I just feel exhausted all of a sudden," he confessed. "Have a good night tonight, Noa. Be safe out there."

"When I'm with the guys, I'm always safe," I promised. We said our goodbyes and separated, both of us turning to look at the other before disappearing from each other's view.

* * *

The party at Magma was in full swing when I arrived with Chris, Eddie, Trish, Lita and the Hardy brothers. It was a club done in fire tones, with swirling lights and girls that danced in cages. We ordered drinks and found a table. Every part of me wanted to have fun, but all I could think about was Shane and the depression he was obviously feeling. I nursed my drink while the others went out on the dance floor. I watched them, Chris dancing with Trish.

"Hey, beautiful. Can I buy you a drink?"

Turning, I saw Kurt standing behind me, dressed in a tight black T-shirt and blue jeans. He sat down in the chair beside me before I could tell him that it was Eddie's seat he was taking. "Thanks for the offer, but I'm already drinking." I motioned to my Cosmopolitan. Kurt snorted.

"What's a pretty Diva like you doing drinking alone?" he asked. "Where are the others?"

"On the dance floor."

"Why aren't you out there?" he asked. I shrugged.

"I came for the liquor." Kurt laughed. I noticed he was drinking cranberry juice. "So, the All-American Hero is a teetotaller, is he?"

"I don't do a lot of things...I'm more or less a priest."

"Right." The word came out more derisively than I intended. Kurt was silent a second before he laughed.

"I like you," he confessed. "I feel like I can cut to the chase with you. So...what are you doing tonight?"

"After this? Sleep. I have an early flight."

"How early?"

"Early." The tone left no room for argument. I wasn't about to lay out my entire travel itinerary to Kurt Angle. I looked out at the dance floor. Chris and I locked eyes and his eyes narrowed when I took a sip of my drink, a signal to come and save me. Chris hit Eddie on the arm and I saw them leaving the dance floor.

"I think that's Kurt Angle," Chris said loudly. All of a sudden there were fans on him in seconds. I slid away undetected for a few moments before I ended up having to take pictures and sign autographs. Chris had given away my position but had created a break between the two of us, something I was grateful for.

"I'm heading back to the hotel before the crowd breaks," I said to Chris. He nodded and I managed to sneak out of a side entrance, making a beeline to my car. My hotel was a two-minute drive from the club, and I was grateful when I made it back to my room, ready to put the last twenty-four hours behind me.

* * *

The clock on the nightstand said it was twenty-five minutes past one. I noticed there was a blinking on the phone in the room; I had a message. I let it wait for a few minutes while I changed into my pajamas and cleaned off my makeup. When I was comfortable and settled, I sat down at the desk and checked the message, not at all surprised to find it was from Shane, looking to talk. I called him back, hoping that I wasn't about to wake him.

"Hello?" he asked. His voice was groggy.

"Oh, shoot. I'm sorry, Shane. Did I wake you?"

"Noa?"

"Yeah. I just got in and saw your message. I woke you, didn't I?"

"No, it's okay," he assured me.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Everything's fine. I mean, I guess. I can't fall asleep to save my life tonight. Am I keeping you awake?" he asked.

"I called you, remember?"

"How was drinking with the guys tonight?"

"Well, it was all fun and games before Kurt Angle showed up." I heard Shane make a noise. "Chris created a distraction and I got the hell out of Dodge. Which is fine; I wasn't really having the best time anyway. I guess I just wasn't in the mood to party tonight. How are you? What's on your mind tonight?"

He was quiet for a long time. For a second, I wondered if the phone call had been dropped. Then, he sighed. A long and drawn out sigh. "I'm not too sure what's on my brain tonight," he confessed. "I'm kind of in a hundred directions tonight if that makes any sense. I guess I'm a bit reflective tonight."

"Reflective about what?" I asked.

"I dunno. I get all weird when I'm alone these days. I think about things. How quickly everything falls apart. Sometimes I think about how I rebuild." It felt like there was more he wanted to say, but I didn't want to push.

"Sometimes those kinds of things take time. Sometimes it just happens so gradually," I told him. "The pain you feel isn't just going to extinguish like a flame, unfortunately. It's okay to just kind of go with it."

"I'm conflicted these days. Really conflicted."

"About what?" I asked.

"I've had thoughts of moving on, of getting things back together. It just...it feels like I'm betraying her memory."

"I don't think she'd think that, Shane. I think she would want you to be happy." We fell silent for a few moments. "What was she like?"

"I don't know how to describe it, but she was my world outside of all this madness," he answered honestly. His voice cracked and it broke my heart.

"Shane, I wish I could tell you there was a quick fix here. But you can't feel guilty about rebuilding your life. You're still human, and you still have needs. But it's okay to still be sad. I'm not saying to just get over it and rush into the first thing you find. But it's okay to just let life lead you for a little while."

He sniffled. "You're pretty wise."

"I fake it until I make it," I told him. He laughed.

"Thanks for listening to me. Chris was right about you. You really are somebody special."

"I don't know about that, but thank you."

"Don't ever sell yourself short." He sniffled. "Thanks for putting up with me the past month."

"Putting up with...what? No. I like hanging out with you," I confessed. "You're one of my favorite people to see."

"That means a lot," he told me. He yawned. "I'm going to try and sleep. I've kept you awake long enough."

"It's fine. Are you sure you're going to be okay?" I asked.

"I will. Just...thanks for listening, Noa."

"Anytime, Shane." I found myself yawning, too. We said our goodbyes and hung up, but I felt bad about leaving him by himself in his hotel room. Knowing there was nothing more I could do for him, I shut off the lights and crawled into bed. He had my phone number; if he needed to get in touch anytime, I knew that he would.


	11. Absent Elements

Chapter 11: Absent Elements

* * *

My rental car this week was a navy Ford Escape, a vehicle far bigger than anything I needed. I drove to the arena alone; Trish was going to join me after the show to make the next town in our loop. Once again I went business casual to arrive, dressed in a white sleeveless shirt underneath a black blazer and dark blue jeans with brown suede boots. A simple necklace and hoop earrings completed my look, my hair pulled back into a tight, high ponytail. I grabbed my bags and my title, readjusting the championship over my shoulder. On both sides of the barricades, fans were waiting, a good chunk of them armed with signs. I approached with a wave and spent some time taking pictures and signing autographs.

It was a blustery afternoon, the kind of weather that's synonymous with autumn. The leaves around me were beginning to turn different colors, the brown ones beginning to fall off the trees. There was an air of electricity, the kind of energy that's almost always associated with the World Wrestling Federation rolling into town. I spent a good ten minutes interacting with the fans before I had to leave. I told them to enjoy the show before I turned and made my way to the back doors of the arena, past the production trucks that had the giant faces of Stone Cold Steve Austin, The Rock, Triple H and Mankind plastered on the sides.

On the outside, I was business as usual - greeting everyone with handshakes and smiles, laughing and making jokes. Internally I had an ominous feeling that had been bubbling in the pit of my stomach for a few days. I haven't spoken to Shane since last week; he's not returning my phone calls or my text messages. It's like he has disappeared into thin air. I'm worried about him, but I don't have the courage to ask anyone. Even though I've done nothing wrong, the whispers back here have made me afraid to even inquire about his mental state. I don't want to make things worse for myself.

"Hey, Noa!"

I turned to see Trish approach, dressed in a pair of tight blue jeans that faded to light blue at the bottom and a black spaghetti-strapped top. Her blonde hair was down around her face, her head topped with a Toronto Blue Jays baseball cap. It was clear she was fresh from makeup, her eyes perfectly lined and her lips given a rosy hue. "Hey, Trish," I greeted as she fell into step beside me. "What's up?"

"Vince. Kurt. They figured you'd know what's up since he's not here," Trish said with a shrug. I was surprised to learn that Shane wasn't at _Raw_ ; I had been hoping to catch up with him. I sighed and shook my head.

"Nope. I haven't heard from Shane since last week. He's not answering any messages I leave him. Steph could know." Trish made a face. I stopped, stepping in front of her. I shook my head. "Okay, seriously – are the two of you ever going to work through things? I mean, what the hell is it between you two that is so bad?"

"She's angry because...I'm kind of...you know...with...Vince."

I blinked. It took a few moments for me to understand what she was trying to say, to process her hushed tone. I shook my head. "What? Ew, Trish. Just...ew."

"You asked."

"And I more than regret it. Ew. Thanks, Trish. I'm never sleeping again." I shuddered. "Does Kurt know what you're up to with...all that?"

"Not that I'm aware of. He just knows I take meetings with Vince every week." We came to a stop at an empty corner of the arena. I put my bag down on a trunk. Crossing my arms, I leaned against the trunk. Trish shook her head. "Between you and I, Rinoa, I'm ready to stop managing Kurt. He gives me the creeps like you wouldn't believe. Sometimes, I swear to God it's like he just stares right through me."

"I know the feeling," I told her. We fell silent.

"You're thinking about him."

"Is it that obvious?" I asked. She nodded. I sighed. "He was really down last week when we talked."

"You're so smitten. It's not even funny."

"Jesus, Trish, could you not say that out loud back here?" I hissed. "You're going to get me into all kinds of trouble if you keep saying stuff like that!"

"Oh, bitch, please. It's an open secret back here about the two of you," she said with a laugh. "You know what? I think he's totally into you, too."

"I doubt that very much, Trish." I shook my head. "What are you doing tonight?" I was desperate to change the subject. I felt all my tension disappear when Trish took the bait.

"I'm managing Kurt, I think. It might become a mixed tag, but Vince hasn't made a decision about that yet," she told me. "You're not wrestling tonight. You have an interview segment about the Fatal Four Way tonight." I nodded, disappointed that I wasn't competing on the show. "I need to go find Kurt? I'll see you later tonight?"

"Yeah, sounds good." Trish left. I picked up my bag and made my way towards the Divas locker room. Along the way I passed Stephanie, dressed in a nice black sundress with a sweetheart neckline that showed off some cleavage, her hair already crimped and her makeup freshly done. She was talking to someone. We locked eyes, green on blue, and as I walked away from her I overheard her excuse herself from her conversation to make a beeline for me.

"Hey, Rinoa – you got a minute?"

"For you? Always." Stephanie flashed me a smile and I followed her to the McMahon-Helmsley locker room. It was a lush office, with a big screen TV, fruit and vegetable platters and leather sofas. I put my bag down beside the door when I stepped inside, shutting the door behind me. Stephanie ventured into the room, stopping and turning and leaning against the desk, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I don't know what kind of things you said to my brother last week, Rinoa, but I really, really need to extend the biggest thank you." I blinked; it wasn't the kind of talk I was expecting to have.

"What?"

"Shane's kind of retreated into himself for a long time," Stephanie explained with a sigh. "I've been trying to talk to him for a long time, but he's shut all of us out. I've been worried, but he's been dismissing me." She crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't give a damn what the rumors are back here – he's been doing so much better since you showed up here." She shook her head. "I've asked him to see someone, to keep a journal, just...to do anything. Then he'd get mad and tell me to stay out of it.

"He told me he talked to you last week. He said you made him see some things."

"Is he here?" I asked. Stephanie shook her head.

"No. He didn't say what he's doing instead, but he promised me he's fine." We fell quiet for a few moments. The air between us felt really thick. "I know it's none of my business, Rinoa, but I'm going to ask anyway – what's going on between you and my brother?"

I felt my body jolt at the question, even though I had been expecting it.

"There's nothing going on, Stephanie. We're just friends." She nodded, but it still seemed like she had her suspicions about the two of us. I was relieved, though, because she only asked once and then dropped the conversation. I wondered if she would tell her father about our talk.

"I'll catch up with you later, Rinoa. I need to go find Hunter. Good luck out there tonight."

"Thank you." Stephanie walked past me, leaving the locker room first. When the door closed, I released the breath I didn't realize I had been holding. My hands were shaking at Stephanie's bluntness. There was absolutely no part of me that felt like Stephanie believed a word I said.

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen, joining me now is the WWF Women's Champion, Rinoa..."

I stepped into the frame with a smile on my face. Lilian Garcia is a few inches shorter than me, with long blonde hair and brown eyes. She was dressed in a tiny purple dress and knee-high boots. "Congratulations on winning the WWF Women's Championship at _Unforgiven..."_ Lilian began. I smiled; I knew I was never going to tire of hearing my name associated with the Women's title.

"That was a match, wasn't it?" I asked. "You know, I came here to the World Wrestling Federation because I wanted to prove that I'm one of the best female wrestlers in the world. And I did that when I defeated Stephanie McMahon for this title right here." I knocked on the title rested over my shoulder. "I know there's been some different champions around here, girls who use this to springboard into other things or wield their power over the division, but I just want to be a fighting champion. I've dreamt of becoming champion ever since I was a little girl, and this is a dream come true."

"Blah, blah blah, blah blah..."

I looked up as Kat approached, dressed in a bright red wig and a fishnet suit that did little to cover her assets. Her makeup was dramatic, her lips an orange-red color. She crossed her arms over her chest, Lilian standing between the two of us.

"Oh, I'm sorry – what was that – this was your childhood dream?" she asked mockingly. Her face was contorted into a mask of disdain. "I hope you don't plan on getting too comfortable with that title on your shoulder, Rinoa, because I don't see it staying there for very long.

"I know you've written me off like everyone else has around here, treating me like I'm some kind of a joke in this division, but I would like to remind you that I've been Women's Champion. And at _No Mercy_ , in our little fatal four-way match, I'm going to get my title back."

"I'm sorry to break this to you, Kitty, but the fatal four-way at _No Mercy_ doesn't see any of us wading around a pool in an evening gown," I informed her. "I'm not writing anyone off, Kat, so here's what we're going to do..." I handed my title to Lilian and took a step back, stretching my arms out wide. "Make your move."

In the blink of an eye, I was on the ground. It took me a moment to realize that somebody had struck me from behind. Tori, dressed in her D-Generation X halter and black pants, kicked at my ribs. Kat was on me in seconds, straddling me and slapping me, screaming over and over again that she wasn't a joke.

I heard shouting above me, and I noticed Jackie had jumped into the fray, attacking Tori. Referees filed into the area, doing everything they could to keep the four of us apart. "That title is mine!" Kat yelled at me.

"We'll just see at _No Mercy,_ won't we?" I growled back at her. The referee managed to get the other three women to leave the interview area. I grabbed my title from Lilian. A few feet behind me I saw Kurt leaned against a trunk, watching the scene unfold in front of him. I turned on my heels and walked away, not wanting to say a word to him.

* * *

I slipped into the Divas locker room, grateful to find only Lita inside, lacing up her boots. She looked up at me and flashed me a smile. Already in her gear, Lita was dressed in a black tank top that had been cut and modified, with baggy tan pants and a black thong visible over her hips. The fishnet that covered her arms and chest were an electric purple. "You look exhausted," she observed.

"Just had a good old fashioned brawl with the contenders in the interview area," I said with a sigh, sitting down heavily on a steel folding chair. "But I'm good. How are you doing? How's life with the Hardy brothers?"

"Extreme." I had to laugh.

"Fair enough."

"Congratulations on becoming Women's Champion, Rinoa. You know I'm going to be coming for it eventually, right?" I nodded.

"I wouldn't expect otherwise," I told her. I sat back in the chair and crossed my ankles. "What are you up to tonight after all the madness ends?"

"I'm super bagged tonight, so I'm heading back to the hotel. Matt, Jeff and I are going to drive to the next town early tomorrow morning. What about you?"

"I'm driving to the next town tonight. By my math, I should make it to the hotel just after three and then I can crash for a couple hours before it's back to the grind."

"Oh, the glitz and glamour of this life, hey?"

"The side nobody ever sees," I agreed with a laugh.

"So, I've been meaning to ask what the hell happened the other night at the club. Jeff said he thought he saw Kurt, and that it looked like he was harassing you." I sighed.

"He was doing the 'let me buy you a drink, we should hang out' thing. I'm trying really hard to kind of dismiss the weird feelings I'm getting from him, but it's starting to feel like he is always wherever I am. Every time I turn around, it just feels like he's two steps behind me."

"Just keep yourself alert," Lita advised me. "The guy is a total weasel."

"He seems to rub everyone the wrong way here, doesn't he?"

"Just us women, it seems like. He tried some shit with me last weekend at a house show and he caught a snug forearm for the effort." I blinked. There was a small pang of disgust and fear I felt at the idea of Kurt trying to take some kind of liberty with me if we are ever in the ring together again.

"Knock on wood – so far, I haven't had to deal with any of that."

"That's good, so far. But it seems like he really likes you."

"Don't jinx me like that."

"I don't mean to. Just stating a fact." She stood. "I'm going to see Matt. If I don't catch you again, safe travels."

"Thanks. You, too." She let herself out of the locker room, leaving me alone. I looked up at the ceiling and thought about Shane, where he was and what he was doing, wondering if he was okay. Trying to push those thoughts out of my head, I turned my attention to the show on the monitor. Every now and then I would check my phone to see if he was responding to my text message I sent in the afternoon, but there was nothing. He wasn't ready to talk yet, and as much as that worried me, I knew it was something I had to accept.


	12. Shane O'Mac Returns

Chapter 12: Shane O'Mac Returns

* * *

 _Raw_ was airing live from the Arrowhead Pond Arena in Anaheim, California. It was a bit of an overcast day, but it was still warm enough for me to just wear a cardigan over my black spaghetti-strapped sundress. I pulled my hair back into a bun, letting two strands frame my face. Dragging my suitcase behind me, I walked into the arena, anxious to see what was in store for the WWF Women's Champion. The joy I felt was quickly replaced by another pang of disappointment when I saw that I was only going to be on commentary tonight, that Jackie, Terri, Tori, and Kat were going to have a tag team match. Even though Shane explained to me how things work around here, the idea of doing commentary still made me feel nervous; the idea of having Vince inside my head for any period of time also didn't strike me as a good idea.

I went to the Divas locker room, dropped my bags off, and quickly changed into a pair of low-rise jeans and a black halter top that showed off some cleavage and a little bit of midriff. Placing my dress and cardigan into the bag, I pulled the elastic out of my hair and dropped it into the bag. Leaving the empty locker room with my title over my shoulder, I first went to hair, where they decided on soft waves around my face, followed by makeup, where they decided on purple eye shadow and pink lips. I thought the look was better suited to Trish, but I went with it.

After I left hair and makeup, I went to get myself a bottle of water from catering. Turning the corner, I felt a surge of relief when I saw Shane. dressed in a light blue button-down shirt and black slacks. He was leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, talking to Stephanie and Hunter. We locked eyes and he smiled at me. It seemed like his eyes lit up. He excused himself made a beeline for me. Stephanie and Hunter were watching us as he wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tightly.

"Hey. Welcome back. I missed you last week," I told him quietly.

"I still watched. You've got this at _No Mercy_ ," he told me. He pulled back. "You ready for tonight?"

"I am. I'm just hoping I'm a decent commentator. I didn't get to do it in WCW."

"I promise you that everything will be fine. There's a direct line between us and you, so just follow what's being said. React, act natural. You'll be great."

"Have I ever told you that you're way too nice to me?" I asked. He smiled.

"You've given me the same in return. Now, go out there and kick some ass." I laughed. Waving at Stephanie and Hunter, I continued to get a bottle of water before the show started.

* * *

 _"You can't run the race, the pace is too fast – you just won't last."_

The music blared through the speakers in the arena and I walked out onto the stage, stopping in front of the ramp and holding up my championship. Tori, Kat, Jackie, and Terri stood in the ring watching me, their hands on their hips, none of them looking especially happy to see me. Tori was dressed in a plain green vinyl halter that exposed her midriff and black pants, her strawberry blonde hair curled around her face. Terri was dressed in a black pantsuit with a rhinestone belt that hung off her slender hips. Jackie wore green. Kat wore an electric blue wig with a little leather number.

I walked around the ring and made a beeline towards the commentary table, taking my seat beside Jerry Lawler and reaching for the spare set of headphones on the table. The girls were scowling; I waved at them.

"Oh my God, JR!" I heard King shout as I put the headset over my ears. "Look who's joining us! It's the Women's Champion!"

"Stay calm, King, and for the love of God, keep your hands on the table," JR instructed. I blinked.

"Wow. Thanks for that," I said with a grimace.

"What brings you down this way, beautiful?" King asked. I suddenly felt my skin crawl.

"I'm just out here for some good old-fashioned women's wrestling," I said, sitting back in my chair. Terri and Kat started off first, the two women locked in a bitter feud that's lasted months.

"You might have to wait awhile," JR told me, "because the two lovely ladies in the ring aren't the most technical."

"Rinoa, you're in a fatal four-way match at _No Mercy_. How do you think that's going to go?" King asked.

"How do I think...?" I shook my head. "I am walking into _No Mercy_ as the Women's Champion, and I'll be walking out of _No Mercy_ as the Women's Champion. That's just all there is to it."

"The champion doesn't need to be pinned to lose the championship in a fatal four-way setting," JR reminded me.

"I know. I know that the odds aren't in my favor here, and that's why I'm out here scouting my competition." I found myself easing up; an experience I expected to be absolutely terrifying my first time out was going far smoother than I had expected. We chatted, and I did my part to also call attention to the action inside the ring. The match came to an end when Jackie hit Kat with a kick that looked absolutely vicious. After a three count, Jackie turned her attention to me as her music blared, motioning across her chest as if to say the title was going to end up there. I took off my headphones and stood, holding the title high above my head. My music was suddenly blaring through the loudspeakers, a reminder to the girls in the ring that I was the one sitting on top of the division.

* * *

I came back through the curtain, into Gorilla, where Shane was sitting with Vince and Brisco. Shane was already on his feet, waiting for me with a warm smile. Vince still had his headset on, seated to the left of Brisco. He was watching the two of us. "Hey - great job out there," Shane offered.

"Thank you."

"It was fine," I heard Vince say, "But you really need to work on loosening up out there. You looked nervous until the headset came off. It was almost like you've never done commentary before."

"I haven't." Vince looked surprised, as if he legitimately had no idea how to respond to that.

"Well, then," he said, clearing his throat. "Well done."

"Come on. I'll walk you to catering," Shane offered, ignoring the stare Vince was giving him. "I need coffee."

I nodded and tried my best to ignore the feeling of Vince staring into my soul. He was watching the two of us _very_ intently. I saw the look in his eyes, and I wondered if he had heard some of the whispers about us around here. With a gentlemanly hand ghosting on my spine, he led me through the curtain and down the steps into the backstage area. I waited until the two of us were out of earshot before I spoke.

"I think your dad hates me," I said sheepishly. Shane laughed.

"You? How could anyone hate you?" He shook his head. "He's just suspicious. He's been hearing some of the rumors around here, so he thinks he's doing his part by keeping an eye out. I'm not gonna lie, Noa, the whispers start whenever I'm around any woman, whether or not there's a spark. There were whispers here about Chyna and I, and we were nothing more than really good friends."

"When did those whispers stop?"

"When you arrived."

"Oh." We fell quiet, walking down the long hallway towards the catering area.

"Noa, I know I haven't had a chance to say it to you tonight, but thanks for everything you did a couple weeks ago. I don't think you'll know how much it means to me. I just...I really appreciate it."

"It's fine - all good. It's what friends do for each other. I meant that, too - my phone is open for you anytime."

"Thanks." We fell quiet again, turning a corner.

"I know it sounds ridiculous, but it felt strange not seeing you back here last week."

"Aw, did you miss me?" he teased. I rolled my eyes.

"I can't answer that – it's going to go to your head." He laughed.

"I'll just have to be here every week then. When I can," he added.

"You don't have to do that," I said with a laugh. "If you don't mind me asking, where did you go last week? Stephanie said she was worried because she couldn't reach you." He shrugged.

"The thing you need to know about Stephanie is that she's the type who needs to be in control all the time. She needs to know everything, and it drives her absolutely crazy when she thinks she's the last to know something. I told everyone I was taking a vacation, but I actually just locked up my house and hid out."

"Did it work?" I asked.

"More or less. There are no days off when my father is involved." We stopped at a drink table. I grabbed a bottle of water. He grabbed himself a cup of coffee. "What are you up to tonight?"

"No plans tonight."

"You should come out with me. I'm going drinking with the Brothers, Show, and Chris."

"Chris? Like, Jericho?" I asked. He nodded. I was surprised because Chris hadn't mentioned anything about going out with Shane. I had my suspicions that he did that on purpose.

"Before you get any crazy thoughts, Kane and Show talked him into it. He was just gonna drive to the next town."

"I was going to do the same."

"Oh." He was visibly disappointed, and I felt terrible instantly.

"But I could always spend an hour or two with you guys before heading out on the road. I'm traveling alone this time around. Am I going to be overdressed for this place? Do I need to get changed?" I asked.

"Nah. You look terrific." I felt myself blush.

"Thanks." He spotted Show down the hall. "Have you met Show yet?"

"Of course. We were in WCW together. Why do you call him Show?"

"Because there's like twenty guys by the name of Paul back here."

"Ah, okay." We walked over to Show, who was making himself a plate. He's the biggest guy I've ever met, so tall that I have to stare up at him to make eye contact. He turned to us and smiled.

"Hey, Shane. Rinoa," he greeted. His eyes were darting between the two of us, and I knew _immediately_ he had been hearing some of the gossip weaving through the backstage area. "Great stuff at _Unforgiven_ ," he told me. I thanked him for the praise. He looked over at Shane. "Is she coming drinking with us tonight?"

"For a little bit," I answered. "Then I'm on the road, so I won't be drinking."

"I've heard she doesn't do Jager too good," Shane told Show with a laugh. I shook my head.

"Don't feel too bad, Rinoa – you've never seen this man knee deep in Kamikazes."

"She'll get to; it feels like a kamikaze night."

"You think he's a suicidal motherfucker _before_ he gets into it..." Show said with a laugh.

"It's part of the fun. Anyway, I need to get back to work. Show, keep an eye on Noa tonight." My eyes widened and I saw something flicker in Show's eyes. Shane was gone before I could say anything else, rushing back to Gorilla, where his father and Brisco were waiting. I looked over at Big Show.

"Breathe easy – Shane's one of my best friends," he assured me. "I'll try to keep him off the SoCo kamikazes until after you're gone." I blinked.

"Sorry – I'm not on the up and up with my drink compositions – what is that?"

"That's where they replace the vodka in the Kamikaze with Southern Comfort. Once Shane gets on the Southern Comfort, he can get pretty wild. He's competitive, and if you aren't careful, he'll drink a bar under the table."

"That's good to know. What kind of a super-drunk is he?"

"A fun one. You don't have to worry about him getting belligerent and trying to start fights. He just drinks to have a good time." I was relieved to hear that. "Besides, you're gonna be among giants. We won't let anything happen to you."

"Glad to know that, too."

* * *

"Here comes the cavalry," Chris said. The two of us were standing in the parking lot at the end of the night. Turning, I saw Shane approach, flanked by Taker, Kane, and Show. They towered over Shane. I must have been staring a little too intently because Chris nudged me in the side with his elbow. "Close your mouth," he whispered softly, "You're attracting flies."

"Noa, this is the Brothers of Destruction. Guys, this is Rinoa." We once again shook hands. Taker's handshake was warm and very firm. I was surprised at how weak Kane's was. "Are we ready to go?"

"Do you have a designated?" Taker asked. I shook my head.

"I'm not drinking. I'm heading to the next town after."

"Good girl." His voice rumbled. Even with sunglasses on, I felt like his gaze was burning a hole through me. He had a way of making me feel like I was his daughter, of making me forget that I'm a grown woman. His lips pursed into a narrow line and I found myself taking a step closer to Chris.

"Well, let's go and get this show on the road. I know a little place just up the road here," Shane told us. We all separated and went to our cars. I watched them all pull out of their spaces and I followed, last in line.


	13. No Mercy

Chapter 13: No Mercy

* * *

This year's instalment of _No Mercy_ was airing live on pay-per-view from the Gund Arena in Cleveland, Ohio. The match card looked pretty crazy; Steve Austin had a No Holds Barred match against Rikishi, Chris was facing X-Pac, and the main-event saw Kurt Angle facing The Rock in hopes of winning his first WWF Championship. As much as I disliked being around Kurt Angle, I couldn't deny that he was one of the top talents we had in the company, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't actively rooting for The Rock. Stephanie planned on accompanying Kurt to ringside tonight, something I know Hunter can't be happy about.

I walked into the arena, dragging my bag behind me, dressed in black bell bottom pants and a black sleeveless crew neck shirt underneath a maroon leather jacket. My ponytail swung from side to side as I entered the arena, feeling all the familiar butterflies that come with defending the championship in a fatal four-way setting. My gear tonight is black and baby blue, with more ties and settings than I'm used to.

Stopping by the match card, I was stunned to find out that our match was going to be the first one on the card. It struck me funny that the women were opening the show, but the truth was that my night was going to be so busy that I decided not to let myself get hung up on where our placement was on the show. Instead, I went to the Divas locker room and dropped off my bags, leaving everything inside so I could go and get my hair and makeup done right away.

Jackie was already in makeup, her eyes closed as Jane worked at her eyelids. I sat down in the chair beside her. "Hey, Jackie," I greeted.

"Hey, Rinoa. Ready for tonight?"

"Are you?"

"I was born ready." I was asked by Katie, the other makeup artist, what my gear colours were. I let her know and she grabbed the eye shadows she needed. "Man, you wouldn't believe the hotel I stayed in last night. I think it might have been the worst hotel in North America."

"That bad, hey?"

"I slept in my car."

"Yikes."

"I booked online. Sometimes you roll the dice - I came up craps," Jackie said with a sigh as Jane worked at her eyelashes.

"The place I was at wasn't too bad, but it could have been a bit better," I confessed. "It definitely wasn't so bad that I had to sleep in my car." We were more like two old friends catching up, instead of two girls who were going to knock the lumps out of each other in a couple hours. Jackie was finished well before I was, her eyes dramatic and her lipstick a nice vibrant shade of red. We shook hands and she went to get something to drink. I kept my eyes closed and let Katie work her magic.

* * *

When my makeup was finished I ventured back to the locker room to change into my gear. I found Trish, Lita and Nora in there. "Hey, Champ," Trish greeted with a quick wave. She was dressed in a white button-down shirt and a black mini-skirt underneath a big zebra print trench-coat. Big clunky black knee-high boots finished her look. "Are you ready for tonight?"

"I am." I went over to my bag and began to rifle through it for the pieces of my gear. "I'm not so much worried about Kat as I am Jackie. That girl has a kick that could take off a head or six." The other girls nodded, the three of them each having had their own battles with her.

"Have you seen Shane since you arrived?" Trish asked. I shot her an exasperated look.

"No. Is he here?"

"Oh yeah. He's been here since sunrise. I caught him grabbing a coffee earlier. He asked if you were here," Trish added casually. I stopped what I was doing and turned my attention to the trio, crossing my arms over my chest. "He was laughing with Dean and Eddie. Before you ask, he seemed perfectly fine after whatever happened there a couple weeks back."

"Do you know what happened there?" Molly asked. Her blonde hair was back in a low ponytail; she wore her pink tank top with black pants. I shook my head.

"No." I knew that nobody in the room believed me, but I was grateful they didn't push the subject. I got changed, listening to the three of them talk about Stephanie McMahon, Kurt Angle and Hunter. It was pretty obvious to everyone that a love triangle was forming between the three, but I couldn't tell if this was a relationship of convenience to Kurt, or if the feelings ran deeper because of the way he's been talking with me.

I got my gear on and I attached the half-skirt to the back of my shorts. "All right - how do I look?"

"Like a champ," Trish told me with a smile.

"Good. Because that's what I was aiming for."

* * *

I walked into Gorilla with the Women's Championship rested on my shoulder. The first person I spotted was Shane, sitting at the end of the table with Brisco and Vince. His eyes fell on me and he smiled, moving out of his chair quickly to approach me. Our moments in Gorilla always feel so strange because I know Vince is aware of the rumors now. It feels like he watches every interaction I have with Shane with a very close eye.

"Hey, Noa, I was hoping I'd see you," he told me. I moved the belt off my shoulder and he moved quickly. "Here - I'll get that around your waist for you."

"Thanks," I said sheepishly, feeling the burn of Vince McMahon's gaze on every patch of exposed skin. I turned so he could fasten the championship around my waist. When it was clasped and in place, I turned to him. "How do I look?" I asked.

"Perfect - as usual," he added.

I opened my mouth to speak, but everything went dark in that moment. I could hear my music blaring through the other side of the curtain. Red and purple lights danced around Gorilla through a small opening in the curtains. On the other side, in the ring, the three women were ready for me, waiting to try and get their hands on my title. I wasn't about to let that happen.

"Good luck out there," I heard him say, his voice close to my ear. "I'll be back here waiting when you come back through as Women's Champion." I had to smile; with every week that passes between the two of us, it really feels like Shane is my biggest supporter. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't flattered by it.

The music exploded and I walked through the curtain. I took my place in the middle of the stage and took the title off my waist, holding it high over my head, reminding the girls in the ring what the match is all about. In the ring, Jackie was rotating her shoulders, dressed in her little red outfit with the thick kick-pads. Kat was wearing red vinyl shorts with a high waist and a black crop top and wig. Tori wore her usual mixture of a green belly top and black pants. I walked down the ramp, resting the title on my shoulder. The look on Kat's face was pure disgust.

I got in the ring and stood on the second turnbuckle, holding the title over my head with one hand. Every now and then I would turn and make sure the referee was keeping the other women back, that Kat wasn't going to attack me while my back was turned. I jumped down onto the canvas and approached the referee, handing him my title before moving to a vacant corner, crouching and quickly stretching.

Referee Mike Chioda held the title high over his head before he motioned for the bell to ring. We all charged at each other, Kat and I, Tori and Jackie.

It was the kind of match I'd been dying to have since coming to North America. The fans were roaring and cheering, split between Jackie and I. We brawled, we wrestled, and I broke out some of the high-flying moves that I hadn't used since Japan. The match came to an end when I hit a 450 Splash on Kat and got the three count.

 _"You like to think you're never wrong_..."

I rolled off Kat, my arm wrapped around my midsection. The referee brought me my Women's Championship before helping me to my feet, raising my hand high in the air. I had no time to celebrate, however.

Turning, I was dropped with a Samoan Drop by Ivory, who was dressed in a buttoned up white shirt and black pants. She did it with enough force to knock the wind right out of me. I curled up into the foetal position, clutching my sides. Ivory stood above me, holding the Women's title high in the air, making it known to me that she was next in line. While I struggled to catch my breath the referee threw her out of the ring, yelling at her to get lost. Ivory threw the title down on me and left. I sat up, turning my head to the ramp. She was motioning around her waist with both hands. I shook my head in disgust.

"That title's going to be mine!" I heard her raspy voice over the incessant ringing of the Right to Censor entrance.

"All you had to do was ask," I said with a shake of my head. I rolled out of the ring and made my way up the ramp.

* * *

"What the fuck was that? A 450 Splash? Goddamn."

Shane was excited when I came through the curtain, his spirited demeanour a stark contrast to my irritated one. Realizing why I was so upset, he suddenly became sombre. "I saw what happened afterwards. That was bullshit. Are you okay, Noa? That looked like a hell of a drop."

"Yeah. It knocked the wind out of me. I had it coming, what with the Last Breath and all..." I sighed.

"I know what will cheer you up – you should come drinking with the guys and me tonight," he said.

"You are crazy. At this rate, I'm going to need a liver transplant by the time I'm twenty-five." Shane laughed.

"You don't have to drink..."

"You say that now. Then someone brings me a shot and tells me not to look a gift horse in the mouth." He laughed again. "I know how it goes. One drink turns into two. Two turns into four, and the next thing I know, I'm dancing on a bar counter in nothing but my underwear." I saw the look on his face and got exasperated. " _Shane_."

"Okay, okay. I get it. That's a no."

"Besides, I'm driving to the next town with Trish tonight. Now. I am going to go and clean up because I'm sure I look like a wreck and smell like a dumpster. I'll talk to you later tonight?"

"Of course. Have a safe trip tonight, Noa."

"You, too. Be careful out there with the drinking, too. I won't be in the vicinity to pick you up from the hospital if you give yourself alcohol poisoning." Shane nodded.

"That hasn't happened yet – knock on wood."

"I'm going to head out. I'll see you later, Shane. Have a good night." We separated. I walked into the backstage area, and I realized that Vince's gaze was so intense on the two of us that it left my hands shaking.

* * *

" _She'll never know what she means to me – I fell for the girl that's on TV..."_

Once again, Trish and I were driving down the interstate, singing off-key at the top of our lungs. Trish has quickly become my favorite travel partner; she's fun, with a filthy mind and a relaxed energy that makes riding with her a breeze. She had her feet on the dash, moving her head from side to side. _"_ This shit is the worst, and I don't know why I keep singing to it," Trish told me.

"Because it's catchy as hell," I told her. We were quiet for a few minutes. Trish reached over and turned down the stereo. "How was your night?"

"It was a night. Vince and Kurt both want me to pump you for information."

I blinked. "What? About what?"

"What do you think?"

"About my friendship with Shane." I shook my head. "That's all there is. Vince would kill me."

"Yeah, he would."

"But Kurt doesn't have a shot in Hell." I sighed. "I swear to God, that man is always two steps behind me these days, and it's the worst. I always feel like he's watching me now. Even if I don't see him, I just...I _feel_ it."

"I bet." She took a sip from her water bottle. "So there's really nothing between you and Shane?"

"Is it really that hard to believe?"

"Yeah. Because every time he looks at you, it's like there are fucking hearts in his eyes."

"Oh, there is not."

"I have no idea how you aren't seeing this. The guy is in love with you."

"I don't think he is. Besides, Vince would lose his mind if Shane got involved with one of us girls."

"Stephanie got involved with Hunter. He has no footing here."

"It's just a bad idea. Chris would lose his shit, too. The first thing he told me is never to get involved with a McMahon. He's mad enough that Shane and I are friends." I shook my head.

"I think you should go for it. I think you two would be just amazing together," Trish told me.

"I'm not hearing any of that."

"What would be the worst thing to happen?"

"I'd get fired. I worked way too hard to get here. I don't want to lose it all because I got involved with somebody I shouldn't have."

"Forbidden fruit is always the best."

"Oh, God, Trish, I'm not hearing that right now. Especially with what you're...ew. Just. No."

"Oh, come on - you could date worse. You could date Kurt."

"I'm going to turn up the music and forget we've had this conversation." Trish laughed, and I turned up the music and squealed when "Girl on TV" became "Oops...I Did It Again". In the passenger's seat, Trish groaned.


	14. Right to Censor

Chapter 14: Right to Censor

* * *

 _"Warning...warning..."_

The constant ring of alarms buzzed through the arena speakers, forcing everyone in the stands to cover their ears. It's an incessant, irritating noise. Steven Richards was the first to emerge through the curtains, followed by the reformed Godfather and Val Venis. Ivory walked by Steven's side, all of them dressed in black slacks and a white button-down shirt with a black bow-tie. Ivory's hair was pulled back slick, in a tight braid. She looked absolutely disgusted. Getting into the ring, she motioned for the men to leave her be before going for the microphone.

"Hit my music," I barked as soon as the ringing stopped. I had no intention of giving her any time to spit her venom at the crowd. The lights went down and I heard my music. Readjusting the title over my shoulder, I shot a quick look at Shane before walking through the curtain. To spite her I wore a black sports bra and a pair of tight blue jeans. I made sure there was some cleavage. Out of spite, I just wanted to rattle her cage and show off as much skin as I was comfortable with. I had a microphone in hand, and I stood in the middle of the stage, waiting for my music to end.

"Super sorry to interrupt, Ivory," I said sarcastically, pacing back and forth on the stage. "But I wanted to spare the fans out here. Nobody wants to hear a damn thing you have to say." I moved the microphone from my lips and the crowd roared. I readjusted my title and stopped in the middle of the stage. "Now, Ivory, I don't know who in the hell you think you are, but you can drop this upstanding citizen act. You attacked me from behind like a coward last night, and as far as I'm concerned, you're still the same backstabbing little bitch you've always been."

"There's children in those stands – you watch your mouth," Ivory snapped at me. I held my hands up in mock surrender, feigning fear. "You know very well why I attacked you – I want a shot at the Women's Championship."

"Well, I hate to tell you, Ivory, but Lita is the next contender. If you have any issues with that, you can take it up with Commissioner Foley." At the mention of Mick's name, the crowd roared. Ivory scowled. She opened her mouth to speak, but I cut her off. "But I'll tell you what, Ivory, since you want to fight so bad – why don't I go in the back and get into my gear, and we can meet in the ring tonight, and I guarantee you that I'll give you the fight you robbed these people of last night." Ivory contemplated her answer. "What's the matter, Ivory? Not so quick to fight when I can see it coming?"

"I'm not scared," she barked. "You're on."

"Cool." I readjusted the championship over my shoulder. "See you tonight." My music blared through the speakers and I turned and went back through the curtain. Shane was waiting for me. I handed him the microphone.

"Holy shit, Noa, way to go."

"Thanks," I replied with a short laugh. "Looking sharp tonight, Boy Wonder – you on the party scene tonight?"

"Nope. My liver needs a break from last week." I laughed. "You know all about that right?"

"All too well since coming here."

"I'm assuming you aren't on the party scene tonight?"

"You'd be right about that. Chris isn't, either. He's having woman troubles."

"It's amazing how some women can keep their men in line when they're hundreds of miles out," Shane laughed.

"I don't think they'd believe it if you told them, either." Shane nodded.

"It really takes a special kind of person to tolerate all of this," he said. Once again, he was sneaking a coffee break, walking with me out of Gorilla and down the hallway. I suspected it was his way to walk with me and talk. I nodded.

"Yep. There's a reason I'm still single."

"You've dated outside the business?"

"Oh, yeah. I've never dated one of the boys. The last guy was super jealous, and he didn't like that I was on the road three hundred days a year and hanging out with all these muscular guys." I shook my head. "He wanted me to give all of this up, and I wasn't willing to do that. And, you know, if I had given it up, I would have come to resent him. I finally got to a point where I was successful doing this, and he wanted me to quit because he was insecure, and I couldn't. In the end, I realized we were both being kind of selfish, but I didn't see any way around it."

"Do you still talk to him?"

"Not really. When I tried, he was kind of a jerk, so I just decided it was for the best to cut it all off."

"You ended it?"

"Believe it or not, he did. He was really jealous of Chris, which is insane, but he was."

"What was his name?"

"Jake." I shook my head. "He never really was all that supportive of me doing this anyway. He always accused me of doing it just to be around the guys. He was such a downer that I took everything he said to me and just used it to push myself further. He was working against me, but I made him work for me."

"How long were you with him?"

"Two years. We split a few months before I signed this contract. That super short Scott Steiner/Buff Bagwell angle I did was kind of the nail in the coffin." They tried doing a love triangle between the three of us, but it failed spectacularly, mostly due to the fact that Scott is unpredictable and torpedoed the whole thing.

"How did you like working with those guys?"

"I didn't. Scott was a lunatic."

"Yeah, I've heard." We stopped at the coffee machine so Shane could get himself a cup.

"They dropped the angle because Buff pissed Scott off and Scott got mad at me over something small. It was something stupid, but they just killed the whole angle because they were scared Scott and Marcus were going to kill each other, and probably because I was getting mad enough to strangle them both."

"Scott's crazy enough to do something," Shane agreed. I nodded.

"Oh, don't I know it." I grabbed a bottle of raspberry Snapple. "Anyway, I'm going to break off here and go get ready for my match. I'll see you later."

"You will. Good luck out there." I thanked him and left. I could feel him watching me until I turned the corner. I crashed into Kurt Angle.

"Hey, Rinoa."

"Hello, Kurt."

"That's a hell of a look you got tonight."

"This old thing?" I said with a shrug. "I can't stay and talk. I need to go get ready for my match."

"Before you go, I wanted to ask – you want to go get a bite after the show tonight?"

"I can't – I'm heading to the next town."

"Alone? You could always ride with me."

"It's fine. I prefer the ride alone." I stepped to the side, and he did the same. I became exasperated. "Kurt, I need to go. Let me go get ready."

"You didn't say please."

"Please." He stepped to the side and I stormed off, but I could feel his eyes on my back until I turned the corner.

* * *

The warning sirens blared through the arena and Ivory walked out to the ring briskly, flanked by the men of Right to Censor. She got into the ring and held up a fist in the air, but she was greeted with nothing but disdain by the crowd. They stood in the ring, and her music faded and the lights went down. My music began.

I walked out when the music picked up, the microphone in my hand and the championship around my waist. "Oh, Ivory. Couldn't leave the boys in the back, could you? See, I knew you were going to do this, so I went out and got a little backup of my own." I removed the microphone from my lips and my music faded into the rock music of the Acolyte Protection Agency. Bradshaw and Faarooq are two of my favourite people, a bunch of fun-loving guys who like to kick ass, take names, and drink beer.

Right to Censor went rabid at the sight of the guys behind me. Steven was shouting at the referee, but there was nothing he could do. Knowing what she was going to do, I took some initiative and found myself some equalizers. I got into the ring and took off my title, holding it high. Ivory scowled. "That title is going to be mine," she informed me.

"Over my dead body, sweetheart."

The guys moved their little party to ringside and Ivory and I began to circle the ring. It was a fight, with Ivory nailing me with some pretty hard shots. I got the win when Ivory got me up for her Samoan Driver and I countered into Last Breath. There was the familiar sound of the air leaving her body and I covered her quickly. Right to Censor tried to interfere, but the APA had things handled at ringside.

As soon as the bell rang, the guys of Right to Censor stormed the ring. I rolled out quickly, into the waiting arms of the APA. We walked backwards, and the guys held my arms up in victory. Ivory was sitting up, screaming that I had ruined everything. Referee Chad Patton ran to me, my title in hand. I let go of Bradshaw's hand and took it, cradling it to my chest. The guys left me on the ramp to go backstage, and I stopped in the middle of the ramp, holding my title up high.

* * *

When I stepped through the curtain, I was surprised to find Vince waiting for me instead of Shane. He smiled. "Great job out there, Rinoa. That was one hell of a counter," he boomed. I flashed him a smile and placed the title over my shoulder. It felt weird not seeing Shane in Gorilla after a match, but it was super awkward being greeted by Vince. "That finisher of yours...it's brutal."

"I thought it up just for you guys. I used to do the 450," I told him. He shook his head, impressed. I excused myself and made a beeline out of Gorilla, wanting to put as much distance between myself and Vince as possible. I wasn't sure I could handle him interrogating me about his son.

Coming down the steps, I found Chris talking to Matt and Jeff. "What's this? You weren't watching my match? And here I thought you were my biggest fan," I teased Chris, making my lower lip jut out in a pout.

"Oh, please – you're the crown jewel of this division – I know you kicked ass tonight." He draped an arm over my shoulders and pulled me in. I smiled and gave Matt and Jeff a quick wave.

"Hi, Rinoa. How are you tonight?" Matt asked.

"Great. How about you guys?"

"Oh, you know – living the dream," Jeff told me. I nodded.

"Good luck with the Outlaws tonight," I told them. "You two have your work cut out for you."

"Don't I know it," Matt said. He cocked his head. "By the way, Noa, if you're looking for Shane, he's back here somewhere. Hunter and Steph had a huge fight about Kurt and he's off consoling her."

"I wasn't, but that's good to know," I said, blinking. "Sucks to be him, I guess."

"Sure seems that way," Chris said. Matt and Jeff left us and I turned to Chris, exhaling.

"These rumors aren't going to die down, I swear," I said.

"They could. You know what you'd have to do."

"Oh, yeah – how the hell do I avoid him every week? Jesus, you make it sound so easy."

"A lot of people manage to not see him."

"That's not true! He's in Gorilla _all the time,"_ I reminded him.

"You know what I think, Noa. I'm not going to push it anymore." I looked at him, surprised. "What are you doing tonight after the show?"

"Going to the next town. You?"

"Drinking with the guys. Do you want to come with? You could always bunk with me, and we'll drive out tomorrow together."

"That's a tempting offer, but I'm just gonna go on. I prefer it when the roads are empty anyway." Chris shot me an incredulous look. "What?"

"Turning down a night of drinking? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I just want to keep moving. Maybe tomorrow night. But I'm going to go and clean up and get ready to head out for the night. Please don't get too crazy tonight – I'm not staying in town to bail you out in the morning."

"You know, a good friend is with you to the end, but a _real_ friend is the one sitting beside you in the cell."

"Well, I'm taking the night off. Just...have a good night, okay?"

"You, too. And please – stop taking everything so personally – especially when it comes to Shane."

There was so much I wanted to say to him, but I kept my mouth shut. I left him, making my way to the Divas locker room undetected by both Kurt and Shane. I thought about the way Kurt Angle had managed to drive some kind of wedge between Hunter and Stephanie. He came across as harmless, but I knew there was something kind of sinister behind his blue eyes.


	15. Breakfast

Chapter 15: Breakfast

* * *

It was an overcast day in Kansas City, Missouri, the kind of day where I would have been better suited at home under a fleece blanket with a warm cup of tea and a good book. I woke up in my hotel bed with a chill in my bones. Pulling the blanket over my shoulders, I rolled over in bed to see Trish, my roommate, fast asleep on the other side of the bed, her blankets just as high as mine.

I didn't want to get out of bed, but I was set to meet Chris for breakfast. With a sigh, I pulled the blankets back and got out of bed, shivering as the cold air hit my skin. I grabbed my bathrobe and went into the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind me. My shower was hot; I stayed underneath the stream of water until the entire bathroom was fogged and my skin was red.

Stepping out of the shower, I dried off and wrapped my hair in the towel. Wiping off the steam on the mirror with the palm of my hand, I noticed a purple bruise on my sternum from one of Jackie's kicks last night. I put on the robe and tied it tight around my waist. Jackie and I had worked a snug match, and I knew she had her battle wounds as well. I tied my hair back in a ponytail; it was just breakfast with Chris, so I didn't see any reason to be fancy. I left the bathroom, wincing as the cold air hit every patch of exposed skin. Moving quietly to my suitcase, I quickly got dressed, opting for a pair of two-toned blue jeans and a big and baggy blue knit sweater that hung off my right shoulder. I tried to move as quickly as possible; I didn't want to wake Trish.

I put on my white ballet slippers, grabbed my purse and slid the key-card into my back pocket. On my way out I made an extra effort to close the door quietly before I went through the door beside us marked STAIRS. The hotel we took over has a small cafe attached to the property, through a set of double glass doors just off the lobby. It was a well decorated and well-lit place with wood floors and yellow walls. It reminded me of my grandmother's kitchen, right down to the floral curtains. I spotted Chris immediately at a table in the corner, sitting with Eddie, Benoit, and Dean. Eddie spotted me immediately and waved me over. Chris turned his head to see me and grinned.

"Good morning, _Mamacita_ ," Eddie greeted as I slid into the chair beside him.

"Good morning, Eddie," I said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and giving him a half-hug. "How are you?"

"Good. Had a fun night with these guys right here. What about you?"

"I couldn't sleep to save my life last night," I confessed. Chris shot me a look.

"Shane keeping you up at night, sweetheart?" he asked teasingly. I shot him a look.

"You are just the worst." I shook my head. "For your information, no, I didn't hear from him."

"It's why she couldn't sleep," Benoit piped up. I shot him a look.

" _Et tu, Brute_?" Benoit snickered and sipped his coffee, his cold blue eyes flickering with amusement.

"Jesus – lighten up, Noa," Chris chastised playfully, rolling his eyes. The waitress approached us, a cute little blonde with far too much energy. She promised to return with a cup of coffee and another menu for me. "You wait all night to hear from him?"

"I was rooming with Trish. We were up talking and then I couldn't sleep."

"Talking about Shane?" Chris asked.

"You are the worst," I reiterated, rolling my eyes.

The waitress returned moments later with a cup of coffee and a menu. I thanked her softly before she went to tend to her other tables. My eyes scanned over the laminated paper, and I sighed; there were too many options for me to choose from. "Noa..." Chris started.

"Could we not talk about any of this stuff this morning, guys? I know you guys think this is funny and super amusing and all, but I'm really not in the mood to have all of this stuff thrown out into the universe." Dean's lips pursed into a narrow line and he leaned over to give me a pat on the back. I decided to settle on two Belgian waffles with strawberries, whipped cream, and two pieces of bacon.

I closed my menu and put it down. Looking up, I saw Shane enter the restaurant. I realized almost right away that he didn't see me, that his eyes were on his mother, father, sister, and brother-in-law on the other side of the restaurant. I inwardly groaned, surprised that I hadn't noticed them. Vince and Hunter looked like they were deep in conversation, oblivious to everything and everyone around them. Shane mentioned that Vince has been going through hot and cold cycles with Hunter, accepting him one moment and then rejecting him in the other. In that moment, though, they looked like a team. I watched Shane approach his mother, leaning down to give her a kiss on the cheek before he took his place beside her. Turning my attention back to the table, the guys were looking at me now, and I suddenly hated everything.

"Why don't you go talk to him?" Chris asked.

"I'm good." I was blushing; I could feel the burn of it in my cheeks. The waitress returned and I ordered my breakfast. She took my menu and disappeared again, mentioning to the guys that their breakfast was coming, that the kitchen was a little backed up with the rush of Superstars.

"Are you chicken, _Mamacita_?" Eddie teased.

"Oh, God, Eddie – not you, too." He laughed.

"Go on," Chris said. I shook my head.

"I'm not going to interrupt him while he's having breakfast with his family."

"Hunter's doing it," Dean pointed out. I shook my head.

"You guys are _impossible_."

"And yet, here you still are," Chris told me.

"Out of spite. I'm no quitter," I told him. Eddie and Dean almost choked on their coffees.

"Look – level with us, Noa. All of us can see it between the two of you. If you level with us, we could help you here if you hit any trouble. He talks about you all the time. He asks about you all the time. Like, is there something we need to know about here? Just in case?"

"There's nothing. I know it's hard for some people to believe, but there is nothing. Can we _please_ drop this? I'd like to have one breakfast with you guys where it doesn't turn into some kind of federal investigation." The guys snorted, but they were nice enough to drop the subject.

Every now and then we could hear Vince's booming laughter through the restaurant, and I know it took the guys everything inside of them not to say anything. There was part of me that wanted to go over and say hello, but I knew it would only pique Vince's curiosity about the two of us. But it was one of those rare taping loops where Shane and I didn't say a word to each other. He hasn't called or answered any of my messages. I wondered if I said something wrong. While Trish slept soundly in the bed beside me, I spent the whole night going over everything I've ever said to him.

"What is the plan for today?" Dean asked. I plastered a smile on my face that felt plastic.

"I'm heading home," Eddie said. Benoit and Chris nodded.

"What about you, Noa?" Chris asked.

"I'm just heading out to the next city." We fell quiet as the waitress arrived with breakfast for the guys. "I didn't see the point in flying across the country for the day to get back on a plane tomorrow to head to New York for that World appearance. I booked a room out there for a couple days so I can do the appearance and then drive up to Albany for the house show on Friday." Chris shot me a look.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" he asked.

"Yeah. I mean, I don't have anything at home, and going home for just a day feels kind of like a waste of time. It gives me some time in New York to see the sights and do some clothes shopping. Trish and Lita said there are some amazing clothing stores out there that I absolutely have to check out.

"You could always come back to Tampa with me," Chris offered. I smiled.

"I know, and I appreciate that, but you don't get time with Jess as it is. It's fine, I promise you I'll be busy. I won't even notice."

"If you say so..." Chris didn't seem convinced, but we fell silent when the waitress returned with my breakfast. I was thankful Dean decided to change the subject, talking about a movie he saw last week. I only half-listened to what he was saying; I couldn't help but think about Shane, thirty feet away from me, talking to his family and seemingly ignoring my existence. I didn't want to seem clingy, but I was definitely worried I had upset him somehow. Maybe I had given him advice about the Stephanie/Hunter/Kurt triangle that he didn't appreciate. Maybe I had just said the wrong thing about something I thought wasn't important at the time. I was surprised I was so rattled by him ignoring me out of the blue. I felt uneasy, but I honestly had no idea when I was going to have a chance to talk to him alone, especially if he wasn't answering my messages.


	16. New York, New York

Chapter 16: New York, New York

* * *

I woke up on a foggy Wednesday morning in my hotel room. Realizing I didn't have anywhere important to be today, I lay in bed for an extra half hour, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about the days when I was just starting out, how hard it was for me to adjust initially to waking up in new surroundings every day. Back then, at eighteen, I had been so young and a little naive. I've always been thankful that my family supported my crazy dream. They told me to call them when I got lonely, and I did for a while. But as I got busier, the calls became less frequent. They never complained. I still have pangs of guilt over it, over everything I've given up to pursue this dream, but my family has been with me every step of the way, even if it's just in spirit at times.

Once I found the will to get out of bed, I stretched, a deep stretch that made my back crack. My plan for the day saw me doing some shopping, for both clothing and lingerie, and then I wanted to sneak in a quick workout before coming back to the hotel and destroying my hard work with a hot fudge sundae and a long and hot bubble bath.

Looking outside, I took in the gray sky and decided to dress for the autumn weather. I chose big and baggy black cargo pants with a pink camisole underneath a blue tank top. I finished the look with a black cardigan with arms so long it covered my hands. I threw my hair back in a high ponytail and added a touch of mascara to my lashes and a coat of rose pink gloss to my lips. Sliding into my ankle boots, I gathered everything I needed and left, deciding to grab coffee and breakfast while I was out.

New York has always been a city that's captivated me. It's so big and busy. My hotel was just off Times Square, a stone's throw away. I looked up at the giant video billboard and smiled. Tomorrow night I am due at The World to do an interview and answer questions about my upcoming _Survivor Series_ match with Lita. It's so strange to be in North America at a time when professional wrestling is hot; it seems like everyone in the mainstream wants a piece of the action.

Walking past The World, looking in my purse for a piece of gum, I crashed into someone. "Jesus. Sorry..." I looked up, into the wide eyes of Shane McMahon. I blinked. "Shane? What are you doing out here?"

"I live here. Well, not in there, but I live in New York," he explained quickly. "My father wanted me to stop in here and approve a few things since he's tied up in business meetings at headquarters." He cocked his head, staring at me quizzically. "What are you doing here? Don't you live in California?"

"I do. But I didn't see a point in flying home for a day since I had to be here for tomorrow's thing, so I just came out here to do some shopping and see the sights. I don't get to do that too often."

"I don't have any plans today – would you mind if I joined you?" he asked. I was surprised.

"I'm sure you really want to go shopping with little old me," I told him sarcastically.

"If you're cool with having someone around for a second opinion, I'm down."

"Sure. I wanted to talk to you anyway." We were stopped by a couple fans. We signed autographs and took pictures. After exchanging a couple pleasantries, we left the fans and began to walk down the street.

"Oh yeah? What about?" he asked.

"I don't want to come off as one of _those_ girls, but did I do something?"

"I don't know. Have you?"

"Shane." I sighed. "I'm sorry, but all week I've had this feeling like you're mad at me about something."

"I'm sorry," he offered. "It's a few things, but it's not you, I promise. Dad's been kind of on my ass about the rumors, and he's also been dropping more work on me than I can handle."

"Oh." I couldn't help but sound hurt. "If you don't want to hang around, we can always..."

"No. No, Noa." He sighed. This entire situation between the two of us seemed to be getting very complicated. "Noa, I like being around you. I'd crawl over an acre of broken glass for you. But I know that the rumors are going to affect you. I know it's not easy because I see it with Hunter. I'm just...I'm thinking about you here, and I honestly don't know how to do this and keep you protected."

I could feel hot tears forming behind my eyes, and I was grateful that I could blink them away. While I'm fully aware that the business is about image, I'd come to enjoy Shane's friendship. He provided me with a level of comfort that was even beyond what I knew with Chris. I love Chris, but I know he has his own life, and it doesn't involve me a fair amount of the time. With Shane, it never feels like I'm intruding.

"I'm not saying we can't hang out, Noa," Shane told me as if he could read my thoughts. "I'm just saying that I want to kind of cool it in front of my dad because I don't want him to make your life difficult. I care about what happens to you." I nodded. He stopped, opening his arms. "Come here."

I walked into his arms and he wrapped them around me in a tight embrace. It felt right, and I had to pull away from him quickly, even though every part of me wanted to stay there. But I stayed in his embrace for a few moments, enjoying the smell of his cologne and the warmth that radiated from him. He pulled back and smiled.

"Now, let's go and do some shopping. If it's cool, I was thinking of picking up a new pair of sneakers today, so maybe I could use your second opinion." I smiled.

"That sounds great."

We walked, and the more we talked, the more I realized that I had done everything Chris had told me not to do. Somewhere, I'd fallen head over heels for the man in front of me, and I know from a business standpoint it is the stupidest thing I could have done. But I found I wasn't caring as much as I used to.

The two of us walked into a small clothing store called Saturn's Rings, a place Lita recommended to me. Walking inside and seeing the cool blue decor, I found myself instantly taken with the place, while Shane looked visibly uncomfortable. We both realized really quickly that Shane was the only man in the store. I assured the raven-haired employee that I would grab her if I needed a hand, but I was just browsing.

Shane moved past me and pulled a dress off the rack. It was strapless, with a corset top and a pencil skirt. The color was emerald green, with a sweetheart neckline that was trimmed with rhinestones and ribbon. He turned to me and placed the dress against me.

"I think you should try this one on. I think this color would look beautiful on you."

"Shane..."

"Seriously. You should. I think you'll look beautiful." With a sigh, I shot him a look but took the dress. We continued our search, and I was surprised to see that Shane had an impeccable eye for fashion.

After I left the store, with three bags full of clothing, Shane and I walked across the street. He stopped in his tracks, looking up at the giant Victoria's Secret banner across the top of the store. I turned to him. "Um..."

"I've got to pick up some new stuff for a photo shoot. If you want to separate for an hour or so, I won't object."

"Are you cool with me...?"

"Yeah. I mean, if not, who knows? I could pick all black..." Shane shook his head and walked past me, holding the door open. I thanked him, and he followed behind me. Instantly, I was hit with all kinds of designs. It was a huge space, warmly lit with taupe walls and dark wood floors. It looked very upscale.

I tried to keep our trip short since I could sense Shane was just as uncomfortable as I was being in there. I also learned that Shane had a good eye for accessories. He was a huge help for me since my style isn't something I'd describe as upscale and elegant – it's more casual.

After we left, Shane and I stopped by a coffee shop. We posed for pictures and signed autographs while we waited for our order. We took our seats on the patio.

"How long have you been in New York for?" I asked.

"I've been living here about a year now," he answered. "I love it here. But I've always been into big cities."

"Can I ask you a favor, Shane?"

"Of course. Anything."

"Can we not tell your father about our last stop?" Shane roared with laughter. "You know, how about not telling anyone about where we just were?"

"Someone probably got pictures, you know."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

"Go figure that my dad would be such a hypocrite," Shane told me. "You know, between Steph and Hunter getting married and him fucking around on my mom with Trish." I blinked.

"You know about that?"

"Who doesn't?" he asked, his tone becoming bitter. "It's not the first time my dad's done this to my mother."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Your mother seems sweet."

"She is. I love her to death." He sighed. "I've heard rumblings that Dad is planning to take off with Trish this Christmas, so I'll probably hang back and spend it with Mom." He looked at me. "What about you? Any plans?"

"Heading up to Spokane to spend Christmas with my mom and dad."

"That sounds nice."

"It is. I eat my body weight in candy canes and I help my mom bake twenty pounds of Christmas stuff. I haven't been home for Christmas in a couple years, so I'm kind of excited to go home and get back into the tradition again. I know they missed having me home, but I've always been really lucky to have supportive parents."

"There's always been some push back with my parents. Dad, especially," Shane told me. "He had us doing odd jobs around the company when we were kids, but when it came to actually wanting to apply our degrees to the business, he was resistant, for whatever reason. I actually beat him at his own game one time, and it's something I know that still pisses him off."

"Oh, God. What did you do?" I asked.

"Dad used us for child labor," Shane said sarcastically. "Stephanie was twelve, modeling merchandise and answering phones. I was modeling here and there...don't even," he said, taking in my face with a laugh. "I worked as a referee, I helped the ring crew. I did it for like four summers, and I was getting paid, but I didn't think I was getting paid enough. So I went to Dad and asked for a raise."

"How did that go?"

"Not well. And we fought about it for a few months. Finally, he thought that he would call me out and told me that he'd consider it if I could find a job that paid more than what he was giving me. He told me until then, I needed to fuck off."

"So what did you do?"

"I went and found a job that paid double." I almost choked on my coffee. "Dad's house?" I nodded. "I laid down the foundation. I got a job as a brick mason's laborer."

"How did your dad react to that?"

"I got my raise." We both shared a laugh.

"Growing up with your father must have been something else."

"It was. Steph will tell you the same thing." We sipped our coffee. "Steph's always been closer to Dad. I've always been closer to Mom. Stephanie hates Trish, but she'll never call Dad out for what he's doing to Mom. She's got her rose colored glasses on when it comes to him."

"And what do you think about Trish?" I asked. He sighed.

"She's a sweet girl, and it's obvious to anyone with a working set of eyes that Dad's taking advantage of her. I almost feel bad for the position she's in since it's her career on the line here." Shane shook his head. "She bears her share of responsibility here, but I know how my dad is. He thinks he can do what he wants, when he wants, without a care for the consequences."

"When you have that much power, I guess that's just a byproduct." Shane shook his head.

"Power shouldn't dictate your character."

"You're right about that." We finished our coffees and left. Our next stop was for a pair of sneakers, and I only hoped that I would be as good of a second opinion as Shane had been for me. But I knew nothing about sneakers.


	17. Surprise!

Chapter 17: Surprise!

* * *

By the time I arrived at The World, the party was in full swing. I arrived through the back door when the sun began to set behind the horizon, not at all surprised to find that the backstage area was in total chaos. I dressed up for the event in the green dress that Shane had picked out on our shopping trip, with a black business blazer and black heels. The makeup I applied was simple, the lipstick an earthy shade. A young tech named Charlie was the first to approach me, a young, sandy haired guy who looked fresh out of high school but had to be in his twenties. He was already armed with a microphone.

I went to the curtain and peered out through a slit in the curtain. There were people as far as my eyes could see, of all ages. On the other side of the curtain, Kevin Kelly was interviewing Tazz, who was guaranteeing the crowd that he was going to choke out Kurt Angle when they met at Madison Square Garden in a couple weeks. I know it sounds awful, but I was hoping Tazz choked some sense into Kurt.

Ominous music blared from the speakers, and I realized it belonged to Tazz. I stepped away from the curtain in time for Tazz to walk through. He shot me a look but didn't acknowledge me. It looked like he puffed his chest out when he saw me, walking away like he was trying to prove to me that he was a tough guy. I shook my head and turned back to the curtain. I'd heard stories about Tazz in ECW, but I like to try and give everyone the benefit of the doubt.

On the other side of the curtain, I heard Kevin announce to the crowd that he had another guest on the docket. He said my name and the crowd cheered as my music hit the speakers. Holding the microphone tight, I walked through the curtain and walked over to Kevin, shaking his hand. I readjusted the Women's Championship on my shoulder before sitting down in the chair beside him.

"Welcome to The World," Kevin greeted. "Have you been here before?"

"No! Not at all. I've wanted to – this place is incredible," I said. "How is everyone here doing tonight?" I asked the crowd. They roared in response.

"So, in two weeks, Rinoa, you are set to take on Lita for your Women's Championship. How are you feeling?"

"You know, I'm really excited," I admitted with a smile. "I really need to say that I love Lita. Her style, her moves, just...everything. I think she's great, and I've been studying her for a long time. No matter how it goes, I think the two of us are going to have a very competitive match."

"What is your strategy going into this match?"

"Well, now, I can't tell you that – if I do that, she'll know what my game plan is. A good champion never lets anyone know what they're thinking," I told him with a smile, "I think everyone from Triple H to The Rock will tell you that."

"Fair enough." I think Kevin knew the answer before he even asked the question. "Now, Rinoa, you are a seasoned veteran, having had plenty of international experience before coming to North America. How old were you when you started wrestling?"

"Eighteen. I started as soon as I graduated high school."

"Your friendship with Chris Jericho..."

"Chris and I became friends when I was wrestling over in Europe. He's the big brother I never wanted," I answered honestly. The crowd laughed at my answer. "I wouldn't imagine it any other way. I don't think people realize just how instrumental Chris has been in my career. I can honestly say if it weren't for him, I probably wouldn't be here living my dream in the WWF."

"How have you been enjoying life in the WWF?"

"It's a little bit of an adjustment coming from overseas to here, and sometimes it feels like a lot to take in, but it's been wonderful. Walking into _Survivor Series_ as the Women's Champion is just...it's incredible. I've been champion a couple times, but never for a company on a scale like this."

"You've found yourself a marked woman lately..."

"It's the price of being a champion," I reminded him. "But, you're right. I have. Ivory is a formidable opponent. I am going to have my hands full with Lita. And Jackie? Jackie's a tough lady. But I welcome all challengers. I want to be known as a fighting champion."

* * *

After the interview wrapped, I decided to stick around and mingle with fans. I posed for pictures, signed autographs and answered all kinds of questions about my time in Japan and my friendship with Chris. I was almost mobbed by fans; it got to the point where I had to ask everyone to back up. I promised to get to everyone, but it seemed like nobody could hear me over the noise.

"Hey, ass-clowns! Get out of the way and let the woman breathe!"

Turning, eyes wide, I saw Chris push his way through the crowd. Everyone went rabid at the sight of him. He was dressed in an old Metallica T-shirt and blue jeans, his blond hair pulled back into a low ponytail. "Hey!" I greeted with a laugh, hugging him tightly. "What are you doing here?"

"I decided to fly out early so I could rest up for the show tomorrow night. How was your 'mini vacation'?"

"Great. The dress is new." He stepped back and examined me from head to toe.

"Very nice. Green is a great color on you."

"When did you get in? Have you eaten? Do you want to do dinner here or go out?" I asked.

"Wow. Holy rapid-fire. I got in this morning. I'm thinking we can find a table and invite a few kids over."

"That sounds like a great idea," I told him with a grin. He extended his arm to me and I linked my arm through it. We waded through the sea of fans, in search of an empty table.

When I was starting out in the wrestling business, all the old timers would tell me that it was everyone for themselves in the business, that it was impossible to make friends. I've never wanted to believe that. Sometimes, going through the motions and the constant travel, it's nice to have someone by my side. I've been thankful to have Chris so close for the last couple of years. I'll never be able to repay him for all the kindness and his friendship.

We slid into a booth and Chris instantly spotted a kid in a Y2J T-shirt that looked so shy. He waved the kid over, and the way his little face lit up warmed my heart. He ran over to the table, tripping. Chris was out of his seat in a flash, catching the kid before he hit the ground. "Hey, hey – careful," Chris said soothingly. I spotted two kids and motioned for them to come sit with me in the booth.

Having the restaurant makes it easier to interact with fans. Outside of the quick autographs and pictures, sometimes it's hard to interact with the people who buy our merchandise and support us. This gives us a chance to show up and hang out and spend some time that we don't necessarily get at fan conventions and expos and autograph signings.

We ate our burgers and talked to the kids, and I almost choked on my Diet Coke when Chris asked Maya – the little girl beside me in her Ninth Wonder of the World T-shirt – who her favorite wrestler was and she answered Chyna without blinking. I almost feel like Chris walked into that, but I said nothing, instead looking down at my WrestleMania burger.

When dinner was over, we posed for some more pictures and signed some more autographs. It was almost nine-thirty by the time we left. The sun was long gone, and the chill in the New York air made me thankful that I opted to wear the blazer. Chris led me towards his car and held the passenger's side open for me. I thanked him and got into the car. I watched him round the hood and get into the driver's seat. "I'll drive you back to the hotel," he offered.

"Thanks."

"Have you seen him?"

"Who?" Chris shot me a look. I sighed. "Of course. He practically lives in the World when he's not on the road." I certainly wasn't about to tell him about our day seeing the sights and shopping; I knew I would never hear the end of it. As it was, I could tell Chris wasn't super happy with my answer, but he said nothing. Instead, he started the car and pulled out of the parking space. On the way back to the hotel, we made small talk about his band. It never ceases to amaze me how Chris can be a man that wears so many hats; he handles the business side of the band himself. I know one day he'd love to be taken seriously, on the same par as bands like Judas Priest and Iron Maiden. He's talked about doing original songs, as opposed to the cover songs the band does. Chris is such an ambitious guy that I wouldn't be surprised to see the band doing big things in the future. I wouldn't expect anything else from him.

We arranged a meeting for breakfast in the morning before the show. I leaned over and gave him a quick hug before I went up to my hotel room. Media days are always a dawn to dusk business, and I was happy to see a bed. I was even happier after I showered and got into my pajamas. As I settled down for the night, my phone rang. I looked at the caller ID and answered the phone with a smile on my face.


	18. Survivor Series 2000

Chapter 18: Survivor Series

* * *

Because it happens every November, the World Wrestling Federation likes to dub the _Survivor Series_ event as a Thanksgiving tradition. The 2000 edition of the show was going to be airing live from the Ice Palace arena in Tampa, Florida. It was a beautiful breezy day, nice enough that I could trade in my winter coat for a cardigan. Like my home in Sacramento, California, Florida doesn't see a lot of snow. I know Shane has been messaging me all day, irritated at the flight delays caused by the massive snowfall in New York.

The card for tonight's show is stacked, headlined by a grudge match between Steve Austin and Hunter. Last year, Steve had been injured severely in a hit and run. The injuries were serious enough that Steve had been sidelined for an entire calendar year. He came back to find out that Rikishi had run him over – for The Rock, whatever the hell that means – at the command of Hunter. It's genuinely horrifying to hear Hunter confess to something so cutthroat, but I'm not at all surprised. This is the life we've chosen, and some people aren't above hurting someone else to get ahead. But attempted murder is pretty extreme, even for us.

I arrived at the arena dressed in dark blue jeans and a beige tank top underneath a long white and grey cardigan. The Women's Championship was slung over my shoulder; my free hand was dragging my suitcase behind me. Coming to a stop at the edge of the fence, I took a few moments to welcome fans to the show, sign autographs and take pictures. I bid them farewell after a few minutes and went inside. Later on in the night, I'll have my hands full with Lita, so I wanted to get myself prepared.

Stopping by the match card, I looked at the order. I had to bite back a grin when I saw Kurt was putting his newly won championship up against the Undertaker. Chris was facing Kane. I found my place on the card before making my way down the hallway in search of the Divas locker room.

Trish was already there, dressed in her tight black halter top and emerald green glittering shorts with black knee-high boots and knee-pads. Later on in the evening, she's going to be teaming up with her team of Test and Albert to take on Nora, Steve Blackman, and Crash Holly.

Turning to me, Trish flashed a smile. "Hey, Noa. Ready for your big match tonight?"

"I think so," I told her, walking into the room and placing my suitcase by the edge of the bench. "Always with the butterflies, though." Trish nodded.

"I hear that." She tousled her hair. I sat down and opened my bag, rifling through it to get my ring gear. The color scheme I picked out for the night was going to be black and hot pink. "I've got to go and get my hair and makeup done, so if I don't see you before your match, good luck out there."

"Thanks, Trish. You, too." She left and I found myself alone in the locker room. I quickly changed, sitting down on the bench and looking around the room. _Survivor Series_ is one of the WWF's biggest events of the year; it's not quite _WrestleMania_ , but it's still big. I know it's just another show, but the history behind the event left me feeling overwhelmed. I put on my boots and laced them up, thinking about how I was going to defeat Lita tonight.

When I was all dressed up, I grabbed my title and placed it over my shoulder. It was time to go and get myself dolled up for the event. Leaving the locker room, I rounded the corner and crashed into Kurt Angle. "Jesus!" I yelped, startled. I took a step back from him. He was already in his red, white and blue singlet, the WWF Championship over his shoulder.

"Hi, Rinoa," he greeted, his lips pulling back into a smile. Every time he looks at me with those blue eyes, it feels like he is staring deep into my soul. "Good luck with your match against Lita tonight."

"Good luck against Taker tonight," I said quietly. The smile on his face disappeared almost instantly.

"You know, I was just talking to Vince, and I honestly don't see why Trish is managing me," he confided, leaning against the wall. All I wanted to do was slink past him and put as much space between the two of us as I could. "I told him the two of us should be paired up. I mean, could you imagine how powerful we would be? The WWF Champion and the Women's Champion working together as a team?"

"I guess they have other plans," I offered lamely. Every time Kurt gets close to me, I feel uneasy. His face darkened and I decided it was time to pull the plug on the conversation. "I've got to go to hair and makeup. Good luck." I moved past him quickly. I could feel his eyes on me until I turned the corner.

When I made it to the makeup area, Jane was just finishing with Trish. She looked at me, her mouth slightly open for Jane to apply the gloss. "Hey," she greeted. I sat down in the chair beside her.

"Hey. I guess I should give you the head's up that Kurt's trying to trade you in." Trish snickered.

"He's all yours."

"Don't you dare put that on me, Trish Stratus." We shared a laugh. Jane finished with Trish, who made no effort to get out of her chair. Moving behind me, Jane began toying with my hair.

"Looking good tonight, Rinoa. You look good with pink."

"Thanks." I noticed that Jane seemed to freeze behind me. Trish and I looked over to see Stephanie approaching. She was dressed in a little black dress with no back, her brown hair wild and crimped, her makeup heavy. She stopped in front of us, and I noticed Trish had become visibly uncomfortable.

"Hi, Steph," I greeted. "How are you?"

"Good. Good. Are you ready for your match with Lita tonight?"

"I am."

"Great. Have you seen my brother around by any chance?"

"No, but I haven't been here very long."

"Okay. If you see him before I do, can you tell him that I need to talk to him? I need you to stress that it is _very_ important." I nodded carefully. Seemingly satisfied by my answer, Stephanie walked away, never once acknowledging Trish's existence. I looked over at Trish when Stephanie was out of earshot.

"One of these days, you two are going to have to hash it out," I told her. Trish sighed.

"I think we're past that."

"Then fight it out or something." I fell silent while Jill finished my look for the night. When we were done, Trish and I left makeup together, talking about the current situation she found herself in with the McMahon family. I actually felt sorry for Trish; I wouldn't wish that kind of situation on anyone, even if she did put herself into it.

* * *

I stood in Gorilla, swinging my arms around and trying to stretch. Shane was sitting at the age of the table, Brisco in the middle keeping father and son separated. He looked over at me. "Good luck," he mouthed.

"Thanks," I mouthed back, smiling. Then my music hit the speakers and the lights went out.

I stepped through the curtain and saw Lita standing in the ring, her arms at her sides. She was dressed in baggy camouflage pants and a black sports bra over a purple fishnet top. Her red hair was styled around her face. I walked down to the ring, excited to meet Lita in a one on one setting. I knew the crowd was going to be split between the two of us. In the few months that she's been here, Lita has become one of the top women in the company, the punk rock rebel that everyone seemed to gravitate to.

Getting into the ring, Lita stayed on her side while I got onto the second turnbuckle and held my championship high. The music faded and the lights changed before I got down, walking to the middle of the ring and handing the referee my title. Referee Tim White was going to be overseeing our match. I extended my hand and after a second she shook it. We both knew that this match was nothing personal; both of us wanted to be the champion. With our backgrounds and our experience, there's a lot of respect between the two of us.

Our match had a bit of a slow start, but thankfully the crowd gave us a chance to breathe. I'm pretty sure Lita has spent the last few weeks studying me because she was able to counter just about every hold I got her into. She whipped me into the corner and then charged. I moved out of the way quick, ducking under her arm. Turning, I moved to attack, but she moved. I ran up the turnbuckles and flipped off, over Lita, landing on my feet. We stopped face to face. I held my arms out and grinned. The crowd applauded.

"Look at you," Lita said with a laugh.

"You're not the only one who knows some things," I told her, laughing. We circled the ring again, locking up. After that, we hit our stride. It was everything I could want; it was a wrestling match, a brawl, a test of strength and a battle of wills. We both flew high, we both got technical, and we stretched each other out.

She went for the Twist of Fate. I rolled through, caught her in a face lock and quickly hit the Last Breath for the second time. I moved to her as quickly as I could – I was sore and exhausted – and hooked her leg for the three count. The bell rang and my music played, but neither of us made any effort to move right away.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yeah. Just...Jesus, you knocked the wind out of me." I made my way to my feet, Tim approaching me with the championship. He raised my arm. When he let go, I turned my attention to Lita, placing the title over my shoulder as I approached. I extended my hand to her. She took it, and I helped her to her feet.

"Should we do this again next month?" Lita asked.

"You pick the time and the place," I told her. Backing away from her, I dropped down and rolled out of the ring, making my way back up the ramp.

* * *

Chris was on me the second I stepped through the curtain, wrapping me in his arms tightly and swinging me around like a rag doll. "Holy fucking shit, Noa! That's what I'm talking about!" he exclaimed. I found myself laughing. "That was _fucking epic!"_ He put me down and helped me readjust the Women's Championship on my shoulder. "I mean, seriously – how the fuck are Kane and I going to follow that?"

"You guys will find a way. You always do," I told him with a smile.

Suddenly I was grabbed by the arm, turned and wrapped up in the tight grip of Kurt Angle. As soon as my body pressed against his, I visibly stiffened, and it felt like the mood in the room had shifted. I locked eyes with Shane. There seemed to be a mix of emotions in his eyes; I recognized anger and concern.

"Congratulations – that was a gold medal match!" Kurt exclaimed excitedly, hugging me even tighter. I thought my ribs were going to crack. I could feel every muscle in Kurt's body, I was that close to him.

"Thank you," I said quietly. I attempted to peel myself out of his grip, but he kept his hold on me. One helpless look at Shane and he was on his feet in a flash, taking his place behind Kurt and clearing his throat.

"Hey, Noa. I'm supposed to take you over to Mulligan to go over what just happened out there," Shane cut in. With one last pull, Kurt finally released his grip on me. The look he shot Shane could have melted steel, but Shane paid Kurt no mind, his hand ghosting on my spine as he led me down the steps and into the backstage area. I felt like I was covered in slime; every part of my body that he touched felt hot and uncomfortable. I shuddered when he was out of our line of sight. The two of us said nothing until we reached catering.

"Thanks for the save back there," I told him, reaching out and grabbing a bottle of peach Snapple.

"Sorry. I know it was flimsy as hell, but it was the best I could come up with on the fly," he told me, grabbing a bottle of water. "Are you okay? He looked like he was squeezing the life out of you."

"It felt like it."

"He's not getting the picture, is he?" Shane asked. I shook my head.

"No, but I hear it's not a problem exclusive to me, so it is what it is, I guess."

"Unfortunately, you're right. But he seems a lot more hands-on with you than anyone else," he observed. There was something in his voice – was it jealousy? - but I couldn't be a hundred percent sure. We fell quiet for a moment. "What are you doing tonight, Noa? You should come out with the guys and I."

"As tempting as that sounds, Boy Wonder, I think I'm going to pass tonight. I'm going to head right back to the hotel and scald off two layers of skin to get the slime off. Then I am going to eat some ice cream, watch some TV and go to bed before driving to Orlando in the morning."

"That's a hard game plan to compete with. But there would be one thing missing."

"Oh, yeah? What's that?"

"Me." I looked at him, startled. Unsure of what to say or do, I laughed.

"You've got me there. But I'd be seeing you tomorrow at _Raw_ anyway – and I'd still have a working liver."

"Well, I can admit when I've been beaten," Shane said. We shared a laugh.

"If you guys decide to go out tomorrow night, I'm all in."

"I'm going to hold you to that." We began to walk together down the hallway, the two of us coming to a stop in front of the Divas locker room. "Have a good night, Noa. Try and get out of here before Kurt comes back from his match, okay? I didn't like what I saw there."

"Okay." We said our goodbyes and I walked into the locker room. Nora was there with Jackie.

"What a match," Nora commented. Her blonde hair was out of the pigtails, brushed straight to her shoulders. She still wore her blue tank top and black pants that she wore to the ring. "Just like the old days."

"That was a hell of a workout," I said with a laugh, sitting down on the chair beside Nora. "She wants to go again at _Armageddon_. I'm not sure the two of us are going to be able to top what we just did if that's the case."

"I think you two could do it," Jackie announced.

"Shane invited us out tonight," Nora said, rapidly changing the subject. "Are you going?"

"Nah; I'm far too tired to be binge drinking."

"How is Shane tonight?" Jackie asked. I didn't like her insinuation.

"I think he's fine, I guess. I don't know. I haven't really talked to him." I stood, moving to my suitcase to gather my things for a shower. "I got permission to leave before the main event, so I'm just going to clean up before heading out." I disappeared, trying to shake off how weird my night had become after I stepped back through the curtain.

* * *

When I got back to the hotel, I took a long and hot bubble bath with Epsom salts to try and soothe my aching muscles. The entire ride back at the hotel, I couldn't stop thinking about Shane, about the way he told me that my night wouldn't be as fun without him. I knew he was right about that. I hoped he was having fun, but I needed to rest and relax.

With every day that passes, I find myself falling deeper. My last relationship had ended up being a total disaster, enough so that I thought calling off the whole dating thing wasn't a bad idea. But there's something about Shane that makes me feel so safe and so calm. I know that we could never be anything, but tonight I had felt something in my chest twitch when he looked at me, when he smiled, and when he came to my rescue.

Trying to get those thoughts out of my head, I got out of the tub and wrapped my body up with a towel. Walking into the room, I changed into a white cotton nightgown. I'm rooming with Trish tonight, but she's out with everyone. I decided to forego the ice cream and crawl into bed instead, letting out a sigh of comfort when my back hit the mattress.

I flipped through the channels and found an old rerun of _The Simpsons_. It was the episode where Homer got caught spilling marriage secrets to his class. As I watched, I felt myself dozing off. I was startled awake when my phone rang. Picking up my phone, I saw it was Shane. I answered quickly. "Hey."

"Hey." I was surprised; there was no noise. "How is your night with the guys going?"

"I ended up just coming back to the hotel instead."

"What? But you were looking forward to going out."

"I was looking forward to hanging out with you." I felt myself heat up. I bit my lip, unsure of what to say. These days, I seemed to be at a loss for words whenever it came to Shane McMahon.


	19. On the Road to Armageddon

Chapter 19: On the Road to Armageddon

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen, joining me at this time is the WWF Women's Champion, Rinoa..."

I stepped into the frame, taking my place in front of Lilian Garcia, dressed in a pair of two-toned jeans and a black T-shirt. My hair was pulled back into a sleek, high ponytail that swung with every step I took. My makeup was dark and dramatic, my lips a glossy, ruby red. On my left shoulder, the Women's Championship rested comfortably. Lilian was dressed in a tiny black dress, her blonde hair brushed straight. She smiled. "Last night, Rinoa, you retained your championship in a hard-fought match against Lita..."

"That was a hell of a match, wasn't it?" I commented. She nodded.

"It sure was."

"I'd like to think the two of us raised the bar pretty high for our division. I can't thank Lita enough..." I trailed off. Lilian turned. Lita stood behind her, dressed in baggy white pants and a purple Hardy T-shirt that was cut up and tied at the waist. Red fishnet was visible down her arms, capped at the bottom with thick wristbands. Her red hair was in layered pigtails, her makeup in purples, the lip-liner she wore darker than her lipstick.

"Rinoa."

"Lita." I readjusted the title on my shoulder.

"Sorry to interrupt your little interview, but you're absolutely right. Last night we went out and tore the house down. You and I – with our training, with our travels – it was a matter of time before you and I ended up across from each other in the ring.

"And I'll admit – you were the better woman last night. You got me. But it won't happen again. So I have a pitch. You and me – _Armageddon_. What do you say?" she asked. I mulled it over for a second.

"What do I say? I say you're on." I extended my hand and she shook it. When she turned to leave, I kept my grip on her hand. She turned back to me, narrowing her hazel eyes. "May the best woman win at _Armageddon_." I released her hand and she walked away. Lilian turned to me. Later on in the night, Lita had a bra and panties match against Trish Stratus. I kept my gaze on Lita, watching her until she disappeared from my view.

"I was going to ask what was next for you as Women's Champion, but I see you and Lita aren't finished with each other just yet," Lilian commented.

"I'm a fighting champion. I'll face her as many times as she wants. But this title is always going to stay with me."

* * *

I found Shane in catering, grabbing himself a cup of coffee to take back to Gorilla. As if he could sense me standing behind him, he turned, flashing me a smile as I approached. "Hey, look at you. I saw your interview, and you got the swagger of a champion," he teased. I laughed, reaching past him to grab a raspberry Snapple. "You look like you're starting to get comfortable."

"I think I am, too," I agreed.

"Ready for the mixed tag tonight?" he asked. I nodded; later on in the night, Chris and I were teaming up to take on the team of Ivory and Steven Richards. "Have you seen Chris at all tonight?"

"Briefly. I was actually just going to go get into my gear and track him down."

"You won't have to look very far. He's out at the loading docks with Malenko. I saw them when I went to get some air about five minutes ago. If you hurry I'm sure they're still there."

"Thanks for the head's up, Shane." We bid each other goodbye and I went to get changed.

* * *

I found Chris and Dean play sparring in the back, behind some wood slats. "Do I need to call security?" I asked teasingly. Chris turned to me, already in his shiny silver gear. Both men straightened up.

"Hey, Noa," he greeted. I approached and gave both men a hug. "Ready for the match tonight?"

"Am I ever. Ivory's been such a pain in the ass," I confided.

"Right to Censor has been a _huge_ pain in the ass," Dean corrected. I nodded.

"You won't hear any argument about that from me."

"Have you seen your lover-boy tonight?" Chris asked. I shot him an exasperated look. "What?"

"I hate it when you call him that."

"What's up with the two of you anyway?" Dean asked. I sighed.

"We're friends." I shook my head. "To answer your question, yes, I have. He directed me to you two."

"Rinoa and Shane, sitting..." Chris started.

"Finish that, and it'll be the last words you ever speak," I said, rolling my eyes. I shot a look at Dean, a pleading look. "He is just the worst."

"I know. We still like him, though."

"Oh, come on – I'm _right here_." He shook his head and draped his arm over my shoulders. "Come on, Noa. We need to go and prep for the match. I'll catch you later, Dean."

"Sure thing. Good luck tonight."

"Thanks, Dean," I offered as Chris was leading me back towards the main hallway.

* * *

I returned to the Divas locker room twenty minutes before the cameras went off for the evening, exhausted but victorious. Trish and Nora were the only two in there, both of them dressed in sweatpants and tank tops. Nora was zipping up a plain black hooded sweatshirt. Both of the girls looked like they were ready to hit the road. Trish turned to me, pulling her hair back and tying it into a messy bun.

"Hey, you. Great job out there tonight."

"Thanks," I said with a laugh, placing my title down on the bench. I sat down beside it and began untying my boots. The game plan after the show was to go over things with Agent Hayes, and then Nora, Trish and I were going to hit the road. I pulled off my boots and pulled my bag over to me, rifling through it for my favorite sweatpants and T-shirt. I gathered my bath bag and my toiletries.

"Shane's been raving about your interview all night," Trish told me. I groaned.

"This is never going to die down, is it?" I asked.

"Not for the foreseeable future," Nora told me gently.

"Is there any kind of heat on me for it?" I asked. Trish shrugged.

"There are a couple people, but your business is your business," Trish informed me.

"I wish that was the case," I said with a sigh. "Vince has been hearing the gossip and he's giving Shane all kinds of hell about it. Shane doesn't really hang out with me much now because of it."

"That's awful," Trish commented. I could tell by the look in her eyes that she meant it.

"It doesn't help with the way some of the other girls act, namely Steph and Jackie. Every time I tell them I haven't seen him, they act like I'm lying." I didn't say it out loud, but Trish was in that group.

"Well, how often do you talk to Shane?" Nora asked.

"Outside of this? After the shows every week. I see him in passing during work hours."

"Are you still traveling with us tonight, or do you have plans with him?"

"I'm still traveling with you guys. He's not really hanging out with me after the shows these days." Nora was supposed to be traveling with Crash and Hardcore Holly, her onscreen cousins, but plans fell through at the last minute. "Are we still meeting for breakfast in the morning?"

"If it's good with you guys," I said. They nodded.

"Champion buys breakfast," Trish told me.

"Champion always seems to buy breakfast," I teased with a laugh.

"We'll let you pick the place for it," Nora assured me. I laughed.

"Oh, you and your heart of gold," I teased. We all shared a laugh as I disappeared into the shower, looking to take the hottest shower I could stand.

* * *

Nora and Trish were already in the car, Nora in the passenger's seat and Trish stretched out in the back. Apparently, on top of breakfast, the champion drives to the towns, too. I like to drive, so it's not a big deal, but the thought made me laugh. I had the hatchback on my car open, loading everyone's bags into the backseat. I shut the back door, turning when I heard another door slam. I saw Bubba Ray Dudley sitting in the passenger's seat, D-Von in the back. Shane emerged from behind the car and he stopped when we saw each other.

"You, too, hey?" I asked with a laugh.

"Boss's son pays his dues," Shane said. "You?"

"A champion's work is never done." We laughed. He turned to the guys in the car and motioned for them to wait a moment, crossing the parking lot to approach me. He was careful not to make any contact with me, something that made me feel sad and disappointed.

"Are you driving straight through to the next town?" he asked. I nodded.

"Yeah. You?"

"I am, but Bubba is going to trade off with me in a couple hours." We fell quiet for a second. "Can you do me a favor?"

"What do you need?"

"Call me when you make it. Let me know you made it to the hotel okay." I looked at him, surprised, but nodded.

"I can do that." Shane opened his mouth to say something, but we were startled by the sound of Bubba laying on the horn in the driver's seat. He hung his head out the passenger's window.

"Come on, McMahon! Try to get laid on your own time!" he bellowed. I wished the floor would open up and swallow me whole. Shane looked like he felt the same way. We looked at Bubba, both of us red-faced and mortified.

"I'd better get back," Shane said. I nodded. "Drive safe."

"You, too." We separated, and I rounded the car. Trish was laughing hysterically in the backseat, and I knew right away that everyone in the parking lot had heard Bubba's outburst.

"You okay?" Nora asked as I got in the car, slamming the door behind me.

"Yeah. Bubba's a jerk," I said with a sigh, turning the key in the ignition. I waited until Shane's car pulled out before leaving. By the time I got through the horde of fans and out onto the road, I couldn't see Shane's car anywhere.


	20. Triple Threat

Chapter 20: Triple Threat

* * *

Trish was the first to head out to the ring, dressed in a little black halter top that pushed everything up, out, and stuck to her like a second skin. Her shorts were hot pink and shiny, shimmering underneath the arena lights. Her eye makeup was in soft violets, her lips a glossy bubblegum pink, her bleached blonde hair styled around her face in voluminous waves. The electric guitar wailed as she walked down the ramp. I watched her walk down to the ring at the edge of Gorilla, every now and then shooting a glance at Shane, who looked thoroughly disgusted.

Last week was a particularly rough one for Shane. Trish and Vince's relationship was now open and public. Linda McMahon had confronted her husband, and he told her he wanted a divorce. The stress and the humiliation collided and now Linda was hospitalized, sedated and catatonic in some Connecticut hospital. I've been on the phone every night with Shane since his mother was admitted; seeing him in person, it's obvious the events of the past week have taken a toll on him in the worst of ways. There are bags under his eyes; he looks like he hasn't slept in a month. His clothing, usually pressed and neat were rumpled like he grabbed the first thing he could find. I shot him a sad smile and turned my attention back to Trish, who was greeted with middle fingers and other obscene gestures from the crowd. I shook my head; we both knew this situation was going to end terribly. I just hoped Trish could recover when everything went down in flames.

The Run DMC version of D-Generation X's music began to play and Tori strode past me, dressed in a lime green halter with D-Generation X emblazoned on the front and black vinyl shorts. Her strawberry blonde locks bounced with every step she took.

Tonight I am in a triple threat match, though my Women's Championship isn't up for grabs. I moved to the black curtain and peered out in time for the lights to go black in the arena. The crowd cheered and as my music began to swell I took a moment to jump from foot to foot, trying to give my cardio a quick boost before I stepped out.

When the lights exploded in red and violet, I walked onto the stage, taking the Women's Championship off my waist and holding it high over my head. Readjusting it over my shoulder, I walked down the ramp, stopping to give a few fans a high-five at the bottom. I climbed up the steps and got into the ring, the referee keeping Trish and Tori back. I got onto the second turnbuckle and held the title up, momentarily blinded by the flash of cameras. The house lights came up and I jumped off the turnbuckle, turning and handing my title to referee Mike Chioda.

While the three of us were preparing ourselves for the battle to follow, we were all startled by the familiar sounds of an electric guitar. Turning, I found Lita standing at the top of the stage, dressed in a pair of baggy khaki pants and a red Bio-hazard shirt that was cut to just under her breasts. She made her way down to the ramp and around the ring; I realized she was going to join JR and King for commentary on the match.

I should have been keeping my eye on my opponents, and not the number one contender, because Trish and Tori used the momentary distraction to double-team me, both of them knocking me face-first into the canvas. The referee was having difficulty backing both women up at the same time. I crawled for the ropes, using them to try and get up. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Trish run at me and I let myself drop, taking the rope with me. Trish went over the top rope and to the ground. Tori approached and grabbed me by the hair, pulling back to punch me in the face. I blocked it and hit back with a forearm, desperate to create some distance between the two of us.

We played a game of shot-for-shot, with Tori gaining the upper hand, sending me into the ropes. I came back with a cross body block, getting so much momentum that I ended up getting pinned. I felt Tori grab onto the back of my shorts and I struggled. "One. Two..."

There was a sigh of relief when I felt all this weight on me. I knew Trish had made it back into the ring to break up the three count. Tori's attempt at cheating had failed.

Vince put me into this match to "warm me up" for _Armageddon_ , but he wasn't about to give Trish a title shot just yet. He was dangling it over her head like a carrot, getting her to do whatever he wanted her to do on the promise that she could get a shot eventually.

I warned Trish, but I knew it was a mistake she was going to have to make, that in this situation it was going to take rock bottom for her to finally start climbing out of it. But the situation was quickly getting out of hand, and people were getting hurt. Shane. Linda. Stephanie's dying to get her hands on Trish, but she's torn between her parents.

Tori hit me in the face with a hard forearm, and I staggered back into the ropes. Trish grabbed Tori by the hair and threw her out of the ring. I straightened up and the two of us stood face to face in the middle of the ring. She pulled back and swung her arm to slap me, but I ducked underneath her and caught her with a German suplex into a bridge pin. I got a two count before Tori slid back into the ring and stomped on my stomach. Tori tried going for the pin, but Trish broke it up.

It was a long match, with none of us making any kind of gain. Trish would break up my pin attempts, Tori would break up Trish's. Most of the pin attempts came at my expense. The match ended when Tori ended up incapacitated outside the ring. Trish was on the top rope, ready to fly. I ran up and caught her with an arm drag, falling over her on the landing and draping an arm over her torso, exhausted. The referee counted to three and I was declared the winner. I had no time to celebrate; Tori reached in and grabbed my leg, pulling me out of the ring, climbing onto me and hitting me over and over again.

Tori was off me in moments, and I heard the crowd cheering. Moving, I saw Lita hitting Tori with the Twist of Fate, onto the mat. I propped myself up and grabbed the apron, using it to stand, staggering back a step or two. Lita was on her feet, looking at me. I looked in the ring; Trish was long gone. Returning my gaze to Lita, we stood, frozen. I grabbed my Women's Championship from Lilian at ringside and slowly backed away. Lita nodded.

"Two more weeks," she reminded me.

"Two more weeks," I confirmed, holding up the title. I wasn't all that surprised to hear a couple of boos in the crowd; Lita is a die-hard fan favorite, right up there with Steve Austin and The Rock. I made my way up the ramp, keeping the title high. Lita is a formidable opponent, for sure, but I had every intention of keeping my title at _Armageddon_.

* * *

The second I stepped through the curtain, I was wrapped up in the arms of Kurt Angle. It was almost like he was lying in wait. His grip was tight, almost like a bear-hug. I struggled against him, but he didn't seem to take the hint. "That was an amazing triple threat, Rinoa! Great stuff! You're such a pro!"

"Kurt...let me go. You're hurting me..." It felt like he was crushing my ribs. It was hard to breathe. He let me go and I struggled to catch my breath. I tried to move past him, to get out of Gorilla, but I was surprised when he reached out and grabbed my arm. I saw Shane at the table, and when Kurt grabbed me the pencil in his hand snapped like a twig. I looked at Kurt, my eyes narrowing, my belt held in my free hand.

"If you aren't doing anything tonight, maybe we can go get something to eat," Kurt pitched. I sighed, trying to shake out of his grip in such a way that I wouldn't make a scene.

"No thank you."

"Come on, Rinoa. I'd love to get to know you more." In the dim light, his blue eyes almost sparkled. It felt like he was staring into my soul, and it made me feel a little nauseous. I hate coming back here after matches because I know he'll be waiting, trying to get any piece of physical contact with me that he can. He makes me so uncomfortable, and the fact that he doesn't take no for an answer makes me even more agitated.

"Well, when that day comes, I'll pick up some salt to spread over the places where Hell froze over," I told him angrily, walking past him and down the steps into the backstage area.

* * *

"Rinoa, wait up!"

I turned to see Shane coming down the steps and making a beeline to me. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself," he told me. "Are you okay?"

"I guess. Why?"

"Because you aren't normally so openly hostile with Kurt Angle," he pointed out. I sighed.

"I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for. You've done nothing wrong." We began walking away from Gorilla.

"I just...I get so sick of him grabbing at me when I come back, and constantly nagging me when I turn him down for dates." I shook my head. "Never mind me and all of this – what's happening with your mom, Shane? Is she okay?"

"No, she's not," Shane confessed. "She's catatonic, pilled up to the gills. Dad's making sure she stays that way so he can do all this bullshit with Trish. I thought I'd try and play the Son card and reverse the shit Dad's been doing, but he's a big donor to the hospital. They won't do anything without his say so."

"Jesus. I'm so sorry, Shane. I wish I knew what to say."

"You've been listening. You don't know how much it helps right now." I realized that Shane and I were heading to catering again. "I've been drinking coffee like it's water. I'm not sleeping. I'm constantly arguing with the hospital. He has them convinced she had a psychotic breakdown." He sighed. "I'm not going out tonight with the guys. Are you going to be up if I give you a call later?"

"Yeah. You know my phone's always open for you." He cleared his throat.

"I know I haven't really said it, but thank you. For everything."

"You don't have to thank me. I wish I could do more." He poured himself a cup of coffee, and I grabbed a bottle of water.

"What are you doing with your two weeks off?"

"I'm heading back out to Spokane to see my parents." I wished he could come with me. With the way Vince has been, I know there is absolutely no way Shane could leave the facility with her. "Keep me posted about your mom, okay?"

"I will. It's just going to be the two of us, and she doesn't talk, so I'll probably be hitting you up like crazy." He sighed. "I should get back. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay." I flashed him a sad smile. He returned it and left, stopping to turn back to me for a second before going back to Gorilla. Taking a sip of water, I turned and made my way back towards the Divas locker room, hoping to avoid Kurt for the rest of the night.


	21. Countdown

Chapter 21: Countdown

* * *

Standing in the middle of the ring, it's always the little things I notice.

I could tell by her body language that Trish has realized far too late that the situation has spun out of control for her. Watching her walk to the ring, I wondered if she could pinpoint the moment where she realized that she lost control, or if she had any idea how she was going to pull herself out of this pit she's in. There isn't a single part of me that thinks the promises Vince has made to her are worth a thing in the long run. I wonder how long it will take her to realize it. Right now it seems like every week has her set up in some situation that leads to her being humiliated and degraded, and I feel awful for her. There are a lot of people who lack sympathy for homewreckers, for women who interfere in marriages, but it doesn't take a rocket scientist here to realize that Trish is being taken advantage of. I don't think she realized for one second what kind of powder keg she was walking into when she got involved with her boss.

Tonight she was dressed in a shimmering blue halter and shorts outfit, her blonde hair around her face in soft waves. I thought about the words Chris said to me when he arrived, his warnings about getting involved with anybody in the McMahon family. Seeing the situation unfolding around Trish, I understood why the idea of befriending anyone with the last name McMahon gave him hives.

In three days I meet Lita in the ring for the WWF Women's Championship, but Vince decided that Lita and I were going to work together in a tag team before our upcoming match. Lita stood to my left, dressed in baggy camouflage pants, red fishnets and black sports bra. Unsure of how to match such a getup, I went with my black and red gear to try and make us look like some kind of a unified team. Trish got into the ring and we gave her space, waiting for her partner Tori to come out. We exchanged looks with each other across from the ring, and my heart broke for her.

Lita and I were both stunned when we realized that Trish's partner was going to be Stephanie. I shot a look at Trish, who looked absolutely frightened at the idea of having to co-exist with a woman who wants to remove every strand of her hair manually. Stephanie was dressed in black pants and a black Game Over T-shirt, her hair crimped and wild. Stephanie has issues with all three of us, but her addition to the match created a strange dynamic; Lita and I had no idea how she was going to react to Trish.

The match was pretty short, thrown out when Stephanie took offence to a particularly hard tag and began attacking Trish. The referee kept calling for the bell, but Stephanie wasn't letting up. Lita and I looked at each other and sighed before intervening. She grabbed Trish and pulled her out from under Stephanie, while I grabbed Stephanie and yanked her off of Trish. Stephanie wheeled on me. "Get your hands off me!" she shouted, giving me a shove. I was rewarded for my

Stephanie wheeled on me. "Get your hands off me!" she shouted, giving me a shove. I was rewarded for my actions with one of Stephanie's world-famous slaps. The crowd went up in a loud "OH" at the sound of her hand connecting with my face. I held the side of my cheek and looked at her, eyes narrowing.

Stephanie realized then that she had made a mistake, and it was far too late for her to take it back. She rushed to make an escape, but I caught her by the hair and pulled her back into the ring. I hit her with the Last Breath. The crowd cheered. Standing, I watched Stephanie roll out of the ring, gasping for breath. Trish was already long gone, wanting to put as much distance between herself and Stephanie as she could. Vince had set Trish up for failure, and we all knew it.

I turned and found myself kicked in the stomach. Lita dropped me with a Twist of Fate. The crowd _ignited._

Dazed on the canvas, looking up at the lights, I saw Lita standing over me, holding my championship high over her head. Then she dropped it on my waist before leaving the ring. I lay there for a second, trying to recollect my thoughts. I sat up, clutching the title to my chest.

* * *

It was unusually quiet backstage when I stepped through the curtain. My neck was killing me, and I didn't want to talk to anyone, so I just walked straight through, making a beeline to the steps that take me down to the backstage area. Before heading back to the Divas locker room, I stopped by the trainer's room to grab a pack of ice from Dr. Rios. I moved to the locker room quickly, hoping to avoid both Stephanie and Kurt.

There was nobody inside the locker room, and I was relieved, sitting down against the wall and positioning the ice pack on the back of my neck. I got to enjoy twenty seconds of silence before the door opened and Trish walked inside. She looked down at me, her makeup running. She looked like she had gone somewhere to cry in private; her eyes were a little swollen. "Hey," I greeted.

"Hey." She sat down in the steel folding chair across from me. "What happened to your neck?"

"Twist of Fate." She nodded. We fell silent for a few moments.

"Thanks for helping me out."

"It's fine." We fell silent. I sighed. "This situation is such a mess, Trish."

"I know," she groaned, putting her head in her hands. "I don't even know how to get out of it. If I break it off, everything is just going to get worse." I sighed; she was right. "You're, like, the only one left who talks to me. You and Kurt. Everyone else acts like I have The Plague."

"It's complicated," I offered, but I didn't need to tell her that.

"I know you talk to Shane. Does he hate me?" she asked. I shook my head.

"He's more worried about his mother." Trish nodded. "Nobody envies you, Trish."

"Vince won't let me manage Kurt anymore. He pretty much just wants me around him all the time."

"Starting to feel like a bird in a cage?" I asked. Trish nodded.

"Oh, you have no idea. Kurt was all too okay with giving me up, too, since he's got his eyes on you."

"Ugh. I know. I've been making myself scarce around here. He always seems like he's waiting around the corner, ready to hump my leg." Trish laughed. "Shane's been saving me in Gorilla, but he can't be around all the time."

"He's so slimy." I nodded.

"Are you going out tonight?" I asked, desperate to change the subject. Trish shook her head.

"My days of that are over. The leash is short, and it's tight."

"I hope you can find your way out, Trish. I really wish I could help." Trish nodded. She sighed.

"I need to clean up and go. Vince wanted me at his side in Gorilla ten minutes ago and he's going to be pissed." I nodded, watching Trish disappear in the shower. I needed to clean up but I made no effort to move; the ice pack felt great on the back of my neck.

While Trish was in the shower, I thought about Shane, how he was spending every waking moment of his free time at the hospital with Linda. I thought about Linda, who made the mistake of staying committed to a lunatic with an ego the size of the universe. I wondered how Shane could be so different, or if he was just that good at creating smoke and mirrors. I didn't want to believe that, though; not about Shane. If he ends up being just like his father, I'm not sure I could ever believe anything about anyone ever again.


	22. Armageddon

Chapter 22: Armageddon

* * *

There was an undeniable electricity in the air when I arrived at the Birmingham-Jefferson Civic Centre in Birmingham, Alabama, for _Armageddon_. I think the buzz in the air had to do with the fact that we were on holidays in twenty-four hours, given our usual two weeks off for the Christmas holidays. Last week we taped two _SmackDown_ episodes, and tomorrow night we are going to tape two _Raw_ shows. There is an aura in the air that is almost exclusive to the holidays being so close.

I arrived at the arena in a red Honda Civic, dressed in black slacks and a long maroon turtleneck sweater that fell down to the top of my thighs. This morning I had no energy to fight with my hair, so I threw it back in a high ponytail that could be loosely described as messy.

The show promises to be brutal, the main event a six-way Hell in a Cell match between Rikishi, The Rock, Steve Austin, Hunter, Undertaker and Kurt. The odds for the match favoured Undertaker; the Hell in a Cell match is considered to be one of his many areas of expertise. Walking into the arena, I spotted him, all six-feet-ten-inches of him, shadow-boxing off in a secluded corner in the bowels of the arena. Moving further down the hall, I spotted Rock jumping from foot to foot, the WWF cameras taping him as he moved for what I assumed were going to be pre-match vignettes.

"Hey, Rinoa!"

I stopped in my tracks. _That voice_.

My shoulders slumped. I didn't need to turn around to know that it was Kurt, but I turned to acknowledge him. He was already in his red, white and blue singlet, the WWF Championship slung over his right shoulder. He grinned at me, his blue eyes glimmering with feigned surprise that we'd run into each other backstage.

"Hello, Kurt." I didn't bother to hide the exhaustion and impatience in my voice.

"Can you believe this madness? _Six_ men inside Hell in a Cell?" Kurt shook his head incredulously. "I'll persevere, though. It's what I do."

"You do," I agreed dryly. We fell silent for a moment, and I wanted to leave.

"What are you doing after the show tonight?"

"I gotta catch a red-eye for _Raw_ tomorrow." The tone of my voice made it clear I wasn't about to tell him anything else. I had no doubt that he would try and press me for flight details, or what hotel I plan on staying at.

"Are you spending your Christmas holiday with your family?" he asked. I nodded. "Where are they?"

"Up north." I left it at that. I could tell Kurt didn't care for the vague answer, but I wasn't about to divulge it to him.

"What are you doing for New Years this year?"

"I have an appearance." I didn't tell him where, and I hoped with everything inside of me that Stephanie didn't divulge that information to him. There was something about the way he looked at me tonight that made my skin crawl. I can't put a finger on why things felt so different, but I felt dirty with the way he was staring at me.

"Do you have any time to get together after the show?" he asked. I shook my head.

"My schedule is tight." I did have a little bit of time, but I didn't want to spend it with Kurt. Internally, I felt myself deflate, knowing that he wasn't getting the message, no matter how clear I was making it to him that I had no romantic interest in him whatsoever.

Kurt opened his mouth, but the ruckus caused by Chris and Eddie behind me made him clamp his mouth shut. "Rinoa, _mamacita!_ Is there a problem here?" he asked, draping his arm over my shoulder. I looked at Chris, who was staring at Kurt with a cocked eyebrow. There was something in his eyes that made my stomach lurch, an almost stormy imprint.

"No problem, Eddie. Just heading to the locker room to get ready."

"We'll walk you there," Chris said firmly, his gaze never leaving Kurt. He took me under his arm and turned me away from Kurt, the two men walking me down the hallway. Chris looked back at Kurt looking at me.

"Are you okay?" I asked Chris quietly. He shook his head.

"I don't like you being around him," he confessed. "Something's not right with him when it comes to you."

"I feel the same way."

"I could see it in his eyes. Just...be careful, okay?"

"Way ahead of you."

* * *

Inside the Divas locker room, I was greeted by Lita, Nora, Jackie, and Terri. Nora wasn't competing, so she was dressed casually in blue jeans and a white peasant blouse, her blonde hair pulled back in a braid away from her face. Terri was dressed in a little red dress that did little to hide what assets she had. It was a tube dress, accented by a blue statement necklace. Her heels were nude, her bleached blonde hair feathered away from her face. Jackie was dressed in a black vinyl vest and tights with her kick-pads. Lita was already in her ring gear, baggy khaki pants and a blue camouflage sports bra over white fishnets.

"Hey," Lita greeted. I dropped my things down on the bench and began gathering my gear. Tonight it was black and hot pink. "Are you ready for tonight?"

"Born ready," I said with a laugh. Lita looked at my gear.

"Is that what you're wearing?" she asked. I nodded and shrugged.

"Yeah; I left my custom yellow 'I'm Better Than Lita' jumpsuit at home." Everyone laughed, but Lita shook her head. I made sure I had all the pieces of my gear together, piled on the bench.

"How was travel?" Nora asked. "I had a hell of a time getting here."

"I did fine until I got here and Kurt started humping my leg in the hallway," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Oh, he did not!" Terri said with a laugh.

"It was close enough – Eddie and Chris had to come and intervene."

"Shane wasn't around?" Lita asked.

"Oh, shut up." The girls laughed as I began to get changed.

"Kurt's been paying a lot of attention to you lately," Nora observed. I nodded, dropping my turtleneck onto the bench beside my gear.

"Yeah, everyone seems to be noticing that. Unfortunately, he's not getting the hint that I'm not interested." I slid on the bustier and zipped it up. "He feels like my second shadow these days, I swear to God."

"Stephanie says he kisses like a fish," Lita told me, and I couldn't help myself – I burst into a fit of giggles that was so shrill and sounded so funny that the other girls found themselves laughing both at Lita and at me. "I bet that Olympic Heroes for Abstinence thing is just his bitterness over the fact that he's a thirty-year-old virgin."

"Oh my..." I shook my head while I worked on zipping up my shorts.

"Is Shane here tonight, do you know?" Lita asked. I shook my head.

"If he is, I haven't seen him. I think he said he was going to be here." I shook my head. "My heart breaks for him. He is just beside himself right now."

"How is Mrs. McMahon doing?" Nora asked. I shook my head.

"Sedated in some hospital. She hasn't spoken a word in weeks."

"That is so disgusting," Lita said, shaking her head. "I can't believe Trish is okay with all of this."

"She's not, exactly. It's just...it's a really fucked up situation," I told them. They nodded solemnly. "Anyway, I need to go and get my hair and makeup done. I'll catch you guys later."

"See you in the ring, _champ_ ," Lita told me.

"It's the easiest place to find me."

* * *

Personally, I didn't think our match lived up to our _Survivor Series_ encounter, but it was still one hell of a fight. Lita and I seem to click like crazy in the ring. The crowd was still red-hot and excited for the match; we brawled, we wrestled, we flew. I hit a Twist of Fate on Lita, earning a shocked cry from the crowd, and a sigh of relief when Lita kicked out at two. Lita hit me with the Last Breath, knocking the wind out of me, but I kicked out at two and three quarters. We stole each other's taunts and finishers; we pushed each every button that we could press.

The match came to an end when Lita countered the Last Breath into a Twist of Fate, followed by her moonsault. The referee counted to three, and I found myself suddenly a _former_ Women's Champion. I lay on the canvas, exhausted, as the electric guitars blared through the arena speakers. Lita was so ecstatic, so happy, and as I lay on the ground, I couldn't help but feel joy for her big moment. I reached for the rope and struggled to sit up.

She turned to me, and the music faded. A hundred and thirty-five pounds crashing into my ribs left me feeling pretty sore. Lita approached, holding out her hand to me. I took it, and she helped me to my feet. The crowd applauded and I held up her arm, pointing to her. I turned to her, dropping her arm.

"Congratulations. You got me tonight. This is all you," I told her. She placed the title over her shoulder and smiled. I left the ring, wanting to give her all the space she needed to enjoy her big moment.

* * *

Backstage, I sensed right away that the atmosphere was tense. Everyone was happy with the match, but there was this awkwardness and discomfort that I knew had to do with the increasingly fraying relationship between Vince and Shane. I noticed Gerald sitting between Vince and Shane. I exchanged a couple words with Vince and excused myself to get some water, desperate to get myself out of that environment, away from the tension. I was about ten feet away from Gorilla when I heard my name called. Turning, I saw Shane running towards me. "Hey," he greeted.

"Hey, yourself. What are you doing?" I asked. He shrugged.

"I needed to get away for a few. How are your ribs feeling? That moonsault looked like it caught you flush."

"It did. I wasn't in the right spot."

"Rinoa! My gosh, Rinoa, are you all right?"

I didn't get a chance to answer; Kurt rushed me, grabbing me by both shoulders. I stiffened as soon as his hands made contact with my skin. He began running his hands up and down my arms. "I'm fine," I assured him through clenched teeth. Sensing that I was extremely uncomfortable, Shane grabbed me by the arm and pulled me back behind him.

"You focused on your six-man Hell in a Cell match tonight?" Shane asked. Kurt looked indignant.

"I was _warming up_ and I saw Rinoa's match..." The way he said those two words made me shudder at the thought of what he might have been doing. Especially because he looked me right in the eyes when he said it. "I saw the way that moonsault looked, so I thought I would check up on her before I hit the weights."

"Well, she's fine, Kurt. No need to worry, as you can see," Shane assured him. Kurt's eyes narrowed.

"I want to hear that from her. She can speak, right?"

"You did hear that from me," I reminded him curtly. Now he was looking between the two of us, and I could almost hear his mind whirring like a buzz-saw, putting pieces of some kind of imaginary puzzle together. I stole a look at Shane, who was openly glaring at Kurt, daring the Olympian to push his luck.

"Don't worry about her, Kurt. I'll see to it she's taken care of. Just worry about your match tonight." Kurt squared his shoulders, offended, but he bid the two of us farewell and walked away. Crossing my arms over my chest, I looked at Shane. He turned to me, cocking an eyebrow. "What?"

"You aren't normally so hostile, Boy Wonder. What gives?"

"I'm not in the mood to deal with him tonight," Shane said with a shrug. "Maybe we should get you to the trainer..."

"I'm fine," I assured him. "It hurts, but nothing feels cracked or broken. If I'm wrong about that, then you have full permission to never let me live it down." Shane's eyes lit up.

"You promise?"

"I'll pinkie swear on it," I told him with a smile. I held up my pinkie and was momentarily stunned when he flashed me his middle finger. My eyes narrowed as I looked into his face. He was smiling, his brown eyes sparkling.

"Pinkies don't swear," he informed me. I laughed and locked middle fingers with him. "What are you doing tonight?" he asked. I shrugged.

"I got a flight out, but it's not going to be until around one. What about you?"

"My flight leaves at two-thirty. If you're up for it, would you want to hang out for a little bit? I could use the company tonight." I nodded.

"I'd love that." I couldn't say it out loud, but I wasn't looking forward to the idea of not being around him for two weeks. I wasn't looking forward to leaving him alone with his catatonic mother for Christmas. We walked together to the Divas locker room, talking about the upcoming six man Hell in a Cell match, and who we thought was going to walk out of the match with the WWF Championship. Neither of believed that Kurt was going to do it.

* * *

After the show, I showered and got changed into a pair of blue jeans and a pink V-necked sweater. A pair of boots and a low ponytail completed my look. Shane followed me in his car back to the hotel so I could park my rental car. I left everything locked up inside the trunk. Slinging my purse over my shoulder I ran to his rental and got into the passenger's side of his black Lexus. "Hey," I said, slamming the door shut behind me.

"Hey. Thanks for coming out with me tonight."

"Do we have a game plan?" I asked. He nodded.

"I thought we'd stop for some coffee and then I wanted to take you to the Vulcan Trail. It's only a mile long, but it's one of my favourite places to hike while I'm here. There's a beautiful view at the end of it."

"Well, lucky for you, I'm a sucker for some pretty scenery." Shane smiled. I stopped to listen to the music in his CD player, and I had to laugh. "Today Was A Good Day."

"Ice Cube. Very nice."

"You know me – I love kicking it old school." I had to laugh at how ridiculous he sounded. He turned up the volume and I rolled my window down a little bit. Even though it was snowy, blustery and cold out, I couldn't think of a better thing to do with Shane before heading home for the holidays.


	23. Armageddon Fallout

Chapter 23: Armageddon Fallout

* * *

Losing my first Women's Championship wasn't nearly as devastating as I thought it was going to be. Being beaten by Lita wasn't the worst way to lose it, and I knew eventually that I was going to get my hands on it once again. Every champion who loses their title gets an automatic rematch, but it was going to be after the New Year that I could collect on it. For now, I find myself getting dragged deeper into the McMahon family drama, thanks in large part to the friendships I have with Shane and Trish.

Vince has been acting like an out of control pig the past few weeks, keeping Trish separated from everyone. I've watched from afar while she's been approached by angry fans, people calling her a slut and a homewrecker. She shakes constantly, and she always keeps her gaze on the floor. Trish doesn't look anyone in the eye anymore. She's caught up in such a bad situation, and I hate that I can't help her. With every week that passes, I watch her retreat further and further into herself.

Because Vince has been keeping such a tight leash on Trish, she's had to stop travelling with me. This week it was just Nora and me, but I was relieved that my former champion status created a system where I'm not doing all of the driving. Nora, dressed in a white T-shirt under a grey and white striped cardigan and jeans, pulled into the parking lot of the Arrowhead Pond Arena in Anaheim, California. Right away I spotted Shane standing at the edge of the lot, dressed in a light blue button-down shirt that was rolled up to the elbows and dark blue jeans. He was pacing back and forth. I wasn't going to say anything, but Nora spotted him, too.

"He looks upset," she observed, parking the car. "I think he's waiting for you."

"It does look that way, doesn't it?" I agreed. Nora killed the ignition and we got out of the car together, the two of us rounding to the back to get our bags. I was surprised when Nora took mine, but she cut off my protests with a look.

"Go talk to him. I'll make sure this gets to the locker room."

"Nora, are you sure?" I asked. She nodded.

"Go. He needs you." I nodded.

"Thank you."

Nora and I went our separate ways. I walked past the cars. Shane spotted me and stopped pacing. "Hey," I greeted when I was within earshot. Shane reached out and grabbed my arm at the crook of the elbow, catching me by surprise. I let him lead me towards the production trucks and into an empty one. We walked up the steps, Shane in front, and I shut the door behind us.

Turning, I walked into a hug. Shane held me tight, not saying a word for what felt like an eternity. It was a tight hug. I could feel his breath against my neck, and it took everything in my power not to shudder against him, to fall into the embrace. I hugged him around the neck, rubbing his back soothingly. "Hey. Is everything okay?" I asked. My words sounded choked, and I hoped he didn't notice. Away from the eyes of everyone in the company, I didn't want to let him go. Call me crazy, but it felt like he was holding me the same way.

"Things are okay now," he confided, his voice low in my ear. "Dad and Trish are going to the Bahamas for Christmas. Hunter and Steph are going to see his parents in Nashua. They're all leaving Mom at the hospital, alone and sedated." I felt my heart crack; I knew Shane was going to spend his entire holiday at the hospital with his mother, arguing with the hospital to ease up on her sedation.

"How is she doing?" I asked. We were still embracing, neither of us making a move to let go.

"There's no change, Noa. I don't know what to do." His voice was threatening to crack.

"Oh, Shane, I'm so sorry," I told him, rubbing his back. "I know it seems like all is lost now, but your mother is a fighter. Just like you," I added. As much as it pained me, I was the first to pull back, keeping my hands on his shoulders. I looked into his eyes and felt a twinge of sorrow for the pain and suffering I saw inside of his brown orbs. "I wish there was something I could do. I wish there was something I could do to help."

"You do a lot just being here," he told me.

"I'm here whenever you need me," I reminded him. I was aware of Shane's hands on my waist. There was something in his eyes, something I couldn't put my finger on. "Shane, I..."

The door opened and Shane let go of me as if my skin were made of fire. He quickly covered with an excuse about showing me the technical side of the business, but I knew before the end of the night, the two of us alone in a production truck was going to be the talk of the company.

* * *

Tonight, I found myself in my very first ever Christmas themed match. Trish was the first to come out to the ring, dressed in little red shorts and a red halter with a white trim. Her hair was in layered pigtails. She paced back and forth, waiting for my arrival. It was a Christmas themed bra and panties match, something I didn't like to do. I liked the idea of doing it even less since it meant that Trish was going to have to suffer another humiliation. I didn't want to add to her problems.

I wasn't prepared for the match tonight, but Shane had the foresight to talk to someone last week about making my gear a week in advance. I was so thankful. Standing at the top of the stage, I took a look at Trish and shook my head. We haven't had much of a chance to talk since Vince really tightened the leash on her, but I know she's miserable. With Trish and Shane being my friends, it didn't take me long to decide that it was best if I just kept any opinions about the situation to myself. Everyone stuck in this mess needs a shoulder, and at least two people involved have chosen mine.

Trish was on me quick, trying so hard to regain her footing in a situation that's completely escaped her. She punched and slapped and clawed, trying to work out her frustrations. I brought my elbow back hard, catching her on the side of her head and causing her to stumble back. Trish rushed me and I caught her with a thunderous arm drag.

It's not a secret that Trish isn't the best wrestler. She still has a bit more training to go in the ring, but she's making improvements by leaps and bounds. I wished that I didn't have to do this match, that I didn't have to humiliate Trish. I don't know what kind of promises Vince made to her to lure her into such a bat-shit crazy position, but they had to be something spectacular. One day I know Trish will get tired of this and stand on her own two feet, but I think she's still a long way from rock bottom.

Trish charged at me again, and she was greeted with another arm drag. When she got up, she ran for a clothesline, swinging blindly. I ducked underneath and caught her in a dragon sleeper hold, my free hand grabbing at her shirt. The crowd went crazy for it. Trish wasn't sure where to fight, but she kept her arms flailing at the arm locked around her neck. I pulled up the shirt high enough to expose her black bra, and when I let her go, she fell, the shirt falling apart in my hands. I took no pleasure in doing this to her; I threw the clothing down on the canvas.

The pain in Trish's eyes was almost too much. I looked at her, holding my arms out, shaking my head. Watching her retreat further and further into herself has been hard; when we first met, she had been so effervescent and eager to show me the ropes. She came at me again and I hit her with the Last Breath before stripping her of her shorts and ending the match. I wanted to make it quick and painless. I didn't stay behind to celebrate; I got out of the ring right away and stormed off, unhappy with my part in embarrassing my friend.

* * *

"Noa..."

I stopped in my tracks, turning to see Shane. Instead of stopping to let him catch up, I turned on my heels and kept walking, wanting to put this entire night behind me. He ran up to me, though, just like I knew he would, stopping in front of me and grabbing me gently by the shoulders to make me stop. "Noa, stop, please." I did as he asked, sighing in frustration. "Noa, come with me." He took my hand and led me to an empty locker room, his father's makeshift office. He leaned against the door, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Shane..."

"Talk to me, Noa." I sighed, knowing that he wasn't going to let up until he got what he wanted.

"I don't want to do this. Any of this."

"Any of what, Noa?"

"I don't want to humiliate Trish. I don't want any part of this. Look, I know there's this whole thing with your family right now, but Trish is still a friend of mine in a bad situation, and I don't want to degrade and humiliate her any more than your father already has. It's not right. I don't feel good about myself doing this."

"There was nothing I could do about that, Noa. That was Dad's decision."

"I know, but..." I sighed. "I don't know. I just want to go back to the hotel and forget tonight happened."

"Rinoa..."

"I'm sorry about your mom, Shane, but she's still a friend."

"I know, Noa. I wish I could help her. I do. My father...he thinks he can do what he wants, when he wants, and not suffer any ramifications for it. And I hate that." He shook his head. "You think Trish is the first? Not even close. He's been doing this to my mother _for decades_. Trish is just the latest in a long line of women."

"Why does your mother put up with it?"

"Because she loves the son of a bitch," Shane spat bitterly. "I've been begging her to leave him since I was a teenager when all of this started. She said she took her vows, and she took them seriously. It's admirable, but my mother deserves the world. She deserves better than this." I nodded; I couldn't argue with that. "Noa, I'm sorry you had to be put in that position with Trish."

"He won't even let me talk to her. She's not allowed to talk to anyone, Shane." I shook my head. "And I know it's awkward, and I'm not asking for you to have sympathy for the woman who is causing chaos in your family..."

"I do feel sorry for her, Noa. Because I know what kind of a man my father is. I know how vindictive my sister can be. Trish is new to the business, so she is naive, and it works against her. But he won't let me talk to her, either. I'm that voice of reason he hates so much." He approached me, touching my shoulders. "I know you hate to hear it, and I hate to say it, but Trish is a grown woman. She's the only one who is going to be able to get herself out of this. If you get involved...it's only going to spell trouble for you, and I don't want that. Not for you."

"I'm sorry, Shane. I need to go." He nodded and let go of me. Before I left, I turned to look at him, both of us depressed and sympathetic to each other. I left the locker room and made a beeline for the Divas locker room, anxious to get out of my stupid Santa gear, desperate to get on with my Christmas holiday.

* * *

"Hey, Noa, change of plans tonight."

I turned to see Chris fall into step with me. After going back to the locker room and having a shower, I changed into a pair of black sweatpants and a white tank top. Chris was in one of his T-shirts with sweatpants, his blond hair pulled back into a low ponytail. I groaned. "Don't say that."

"What? It's not a bad plan – Nora had to leave early because of a family emergency back in Minnesota, so I volunteered to drive you back to the hotel. I thought you and I could catch up since it feels like it's been forever since I've seen you _and_ I wanted to hear about the rumours making the rounds tonight."

"The production truck?" I asked. He nodded.

"You're not denying it."

"We weren't fooling around if that's what you're implying."

"So what happened?"

"Shane pulled me aside so he could vent a little bit. This situation with his mother is killing him, Chris."

"See, it's just further down the fucking rabbit hole with this whole thing, Noa. What did I tell you?"

"Chris, I know you've got hives about all of this, but Shane is my friend. You don't have to be supportive, but it would be nice, okay?" We walked outside, where fans were waiting for us. I signed a couple of autographs. I'd heard word that Vince had been looking for me towards the end of the night so I made myself scarce. Whatever he wanted to talk about could wait until the New Year. I didn't want to deal with him or even be near him. I knew I was liable to say something stupid.

Chris and I got into his rental car. He turned the key in the ignition and the car was flooded with _Master of Puppets_. "It's not that I don't support your friendship with Shane, Noa. It's that his family is all kinds of fucked up. I don't want to see you in the same position that Trish is in, okay?"

"I won't, okay? I promise you that."

"Do you think Trish thought this was going to happen to her?"

"It's a different situation for me, Chris," I told him, but I was aware of how flimsy that sounded.

"I'm not saying you can't be friends with Shane. I just want you to be careful. Getting caught up in the McMahon family drama is a disaster waiting to happen." We got out onto the main road and drove for a while in silence. Chris sighed. "Rinoa, I need you to be honest with me – have you slept with Shane?"

"What? No!" I sighed. "It's not like that, Chris."

"But you're in love with him." It wasn't an accusation, but a flat statement.

I sighed. Chris knows me better than I know myself sometimes, and I didn't want to lie anymore. "I am."

"You can't."

"I know. I can't help it. I'm not going to act on it."

"Oh, Noa. This is such a mess," Chris said with a sigh. I could tell he was heartbroken that I hadn't heeded his warning. I leaned back in the passenger's seat and sighed, clapping my hands over my face.

"I know. Trust me, Chris. I know."


	24. Home for the Holidays

Chapter 24: Home for the Holidays

* * *

My mother, Catherine Elizabeth Bradbury, was born February twenty-third in Redding, California, to teenage parents who decided to try winging it. She's the oldest of six children, four girls and two boys. Growing up, she was a bombshell, with my chestnut hair and hazel eyes that seemed to glow when she was happy. She's great with numbers. In school, she was an overachiever, the kind of girl who had to be on every kind of extracurricular activity. Even now she likes to do part-time work with Spokane's local theatre scene, doing everything from set design to acting.

My father, Peter Michael Fielder, was born June fifteenth in Redding, to my grandparents Noah and Rita. My dad has a younger brother and a younger sister, but he was never that close to them. Growing up, my dad had all kinds of phases – the Goth phase, the nerd phase, the underachiever phase, the overachiever phase. He's a tall, strapping man, with hair so dark it's almost black and my green eyes. He's the only man in his family with those eyes.

My parents met in high school when the two of them shared the same acting class. They fell in love with each other after they got cast to play the leads in _Romeo & Juliet_. Mom insists that the sparks flew instantly and that they spent every waking moment together. They were steady before the year was over, and married right after graduation. I came along not long after that. The pregnancy and the labour were difficult, so it's only ever been me.

When I got off the plane in Spokane, I spotted Mom immediately, dressed in a V-neck white floral dress, her hair clipped back from her face. Dad stood behind her in a blue and white checkered button-down shirt and khakis. I waved to them, and they waved me over, but I had to stop and sign some autographs, take some pictures and answer some questions.

"How was your flight, honey?" Mom asked as I approached. She gave me a tight hug, and I squeezed her as if I was about to lose her if I let go. "Oh, it's so good to see you!"

"You, too, Mom. The flight was okay. I'm just happy to be home for a while."

"How long are you here for?"

"I'm here until the thirtieth. I have to do an appearance at The World on New Years."

"You must be hungry. Did you want to stop for something to eat?" she asked. I shook my head.

"I'm okay, Mom. I'd just like to get to the house and get settled. I'm pretty tired." I let go of her and hugged my father. "Hey, Dad."

"Hey, Noa. Glad to have you home." I let go of him and turned back to my mother.

"Did you start Christmas baking yet?" I asked.

"Yes, and I bought three extra boxes of candy canes this year," she added with a laugh. I blushed; my consumption of candy canes during the holiday season is something of a legend among my friends and family. Mom, Dad and I began to make our way through the airport. "I have no idea how you can eat all those candy canes and never gain a pound."

"Perk of having such an active job," I said with a shrug. We stopped by baggage claim and Dad grabbed my suitcase. He pulled it off the track and we walked together out of the airport.

"So, you came alone," Dad said teasingly. I shot him a look.

"Yeah. Chris has his own thing this year." Last year, Chris followed me home for Christmas. He hit it off like crazy with my mother. After the holiday ended, any doubts or worries they had about Chris or what I was doing eased up considerably. They treated Chris like he was the son they always wanted.

"I didn't mean Chris," Dad said with a laugh. "I meant this Shane guy you're always talking about."

"Dad..." I groaned, clapping a hand over my face.

"I just thought you'd bring him, that's all," he said. "No need to get defensive."

"Why didn't he come with you?" Mom asked, and I realized at that moment that it had been so long since I had called them that they didn't know anything that was going on in the wacky world of the World Wrestling Federation. I sighed as we crossed the parking lot, my eyes scanning for any sign of my dad's station wagon.

"His mother's in the hospital right now. She's not doing very well."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"I would have brought him with me, but there's no way the hospital would have released her." Dad put my bag in the trunk and we all got into the car. My parents aren't wrestling fans by any stretch of the imagination; they tape the shows and just watch whatever I'm involved in.

"So, tell us a little about Shane," Mom said. The radio station was playing Christmas music at a soft volume.

"It's Shane McMahon, Mom."

"Oh... _oh_." It dawned on my mother. "Oh, Noa, honey..."

"There's nothing like that going on with the two of us. Nobody believes that, but there isn't."

"People will always love to talk, Rinoa. Some people don't have anything better to do," Dad pointed out.

"Are you still having problems with that one fellow?" Dad asked, looking at me in the rear-view mirror. I nodded.

"I don't know what it is about him, Dad, but the guy makes my skin crawl. I think Chris has picked up on it."

"Has Shane?" Mom asked. I nodded.

"I think so. I got the feeling that he did on Sunday night."

"If he keeps giving you trouble, go to one of your superiors, Rinoa."

"Dad, it's a little bit of a different structure with what I do. With my luck, I'd probably get fired."

"What? That's ridiculous."

"I wouldn't be surprised if Vince is looking for an excuse right now. I know for a fact that he's heard the rumours about Shane and I. He was looking to question me last night, but I kept a low profile and managed to duck him. Plus, Kurt's the champion right now. He's kind of the big draw. I'm a woman."

"That makes no difference, Rinoa," Mom told me.

"In a perfect world, it doesn't."

"So Shane is an ally of sorts," Dad said. I sighed.

"He's my friend. And he's not on the best of terms with his Dad right now...it's really complicated, but it has everything to do with why his mother is locked up in the hospital."

"That sounds awful," Mom commented. I nodded.

"It's too bad you lost the title on Sunday," Dad commented. "But my God, you and that redhead just kill it together."

"That's Amy, Dad. Everyone knows her as Lita."

"I didn't like that match you had on Monday with the blonde," Mom commented.

"I didn't, either," I confessed, looking out the window.

"What's her deal?" Dad asked.

"She's one of my best friends on the road. But she's in trouble right now. It has to do with..."

"...With Shane's mother going into the hospital," Mom finished. I nodded. She shook her head. "This sounds crazier than a soap opera, Rinoa."

"That's life in the WWF."

* * *

My parents live in a small two bedroom house in the heart of Spokane, two blocks away from a colourful shopping district and cool little cafes that feature live music and great coffee. Dad parked the car in the driveway, and I got out, breathing in the smell of winter. The sky above me was white, the snow on the ground up to my ankles.

"You made gingerbread cookies, right? I could seriously go for a gingerbread cookie. And some earl grey tea," I added. Mom shook her head, laughing. "What? This is like, cheat week."

"We knew you were coming, Rinoa. There are enough gingerbread cookies and earl grey tea to last you the holidays," Mom said with a laugh. I went to grab my bag, but Dad cut me off, pulling my suitcase out of the trunk and closing it.

"Thank God for that."

"We learned our lesson when you came home," Dad said with a laugh. I followed them up the front steps and into the house. I made a beeline for the kitchen, a well-lit yellow space with light wood and white counters. There was a plate of frosted gingerbread cookies in the middle of the island. I rushed to it and grabbed a cookie, taking a bite and letting myself have a moment. My mom makes the softest gingerbread cookies I've ever had.

"Oh, my God, this is _so good_ ," I cried out, and my parents laughed. "What? I don't get to eat these often." I looked around the kitchen. "Have you guys put up the tree yet?"

"No. I know how much it means for you to be here to do it," Dad told me.

"Awesome. What's for dinner? I'm starved."

"Jesus, you just don't stop," Dad laughed.

"I'm sorry. I'm just so excited to see you guys."

"We thought we'd take you out for dinner tonight. There's a great Chinese food place down the road from us."

"That sounds amazing," I agreed. "I'll go get myself settled in and cleaned up, and then we'll go."

I grabbed my suitcase from my father and went upstairs to the guest room that doubles as my mother's sewing room. She's still active with local theatre companies; she does everything but writes and directs the shows. Over the years she's done choreography, she's done set design and costumes. It's a passion of hers, even if she never tried to do anything more with it.

Walking into the room, I shut the door behind me and dropped the suitcase at the foot of the bed before I sat down. I looked at the walls, cluttered with Mom's theatre schedule and random photographs of the family. Sometimes the hardest part of being in this business isn't the travel and the beating your body takes, but the memories you miss being away so much. I don't regret the life I have, but sometimes I miss being front row for one of Mom's shows, or going to the race track or shooting range with Dad.

I was startled out of my thoughts by my phone ringing. Grabbing it from the pocket of my jeans, I saw the number and smiled. "Hello, Boy Wonder."

"You were supposed to call when your plane landed," Shane told me.

"Hello to you, too. I'm sorry – I got all kinds of caught up with my parents. How was your flight home?"

"Just got off the flight." I grimaced; Shane was supposed to be on an earlier flight than mine.

"The delay was that bad?"

"Yeah. I ended up being on the last plane out; they had to shut down the airport. I'm talking white-out conditions."

"Jeez."

"You made it okay?"

"Yeah. I didn't hit any kind of bad weather until I hit Spokane. There's a hell of a lot of snow here." I readjusted on the bed and leaned against the wall. We fell quiet.

"I miss you already."

"I miss you, too," I told him with a sigh. "I feel terrible that you're by yourself."

"It's all right. I wouldn't ask anyone to stay with me in all of this."

"I would, though." I sighed. "Are you going to see her tonight?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna run and grab a small Christmas tree to put in her room." I felt my heart crack. "Get her into the spirit. I know it's not going to do anything..."

"No. That sounds lovely."

"What are you doing tonight?"

"Going out for dinner with my parents, and then just unwinding."

"I'll let you go and let you get back to your family. I just wanted to make sure you made it okay."

"Thank you for checking. I'm glad you made it home."

"I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Please do. Keep me updated on your mom, okay?"

"I will." We said our goodbyes and I hung up the phone. I leaned my head against the wall. I'm still not a hundred percent sure how I'm going to have a great holiday, knowing that he's in so much pain right now, stuck in a sterile hospital with a small Christmas tree and a mother who can't say a word.


	25. Christmastime Is Near

Chapter 25: Christmastime is Near

* * *

Part of being a professional wrestler is realizing that sometimes certain sacrifices have to be made, and I've made a lot of them over the years. Marriage, children, other people's marriages and children. I've missed a lot of things in the lives of the people around me, but I would never in a million years change my life. This year, spending Christmas with my family, I was thankful to have the time with them.

When dinner was over and we got our fortune cookies, I almost choked on my water when I read the fortune. "Love is the only true adventure." I couldn't help but wonder what it meant, who it was about – was it Shane? - and how this fortune was supposed to apply to my life. I ended up placing the fortune in my wallet and we left, navigating through the snow back to Mom and Dad's. When we got home, we all changed into our Christmas pyjamas and Mom put on _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_. Dad started setting up the fake tree so we could start decorating.

"So I've been thinking..." I started, opening a box of blue circular ornaments. "What would you guys say if I asked Vince to put aside two tickets for _WrestleMania_ next year? It's on the first of April. I'd love it if you guys could come out and watch. I don't know what I'm doing yet..."

"It should be fine. We have more than enough time to book the days off," Dad commented. I felt myself swell with pride, knowing that next year my parents could be seeing my very first _WrestleMania._ "Where is it this year?"

"Houston."

"If we go, does this mean we get to meet Shane in person?" Mom asked. I sighed. "Oh, don't get so defensive with us, Rinoa – we just want to meet him. You talk about him a lot."

"You know what I'm thinking, Cathy?" Dad asked, hanging a silver ornament.

"What's that, honey?"

"I'm thinking Rinoa's in love."

"Oh, God, can we _not_ talk about this? I'd be willing to talk about _anything_ else." The blush in my cheeks gave me away, however. They were both studying my expression, the way my body seemed to tighten in embarrassment.

"I think she is. Look at her," Mom observed.

"I'm not ready to talk about this."

"We are," Dad told me, and I groaned, my shoulders sagging. "So he's the boss's son?"

"Yes, which is why nothing is _ever_ going to happen."

"And he competes?" Dad pressed. I nodded, knowing he wasn't going to drop the subject.

"Part-time. Vince kind of has him assigned to all kinds of different jobs."

"So what is his main one?" Mom asked.

"He's the Executive Vice President of Global Media. He handles all the online things and strikes distribution deals with countries here and overseas." Mom and Dad looked impressed by the information. While I talked, I continued to hang ornaments, trying to spread them out evenly.

"How did you meet him?" Dad asked.

"He sat in on my contract signing."

"He's a man of many hats, is he?" Dad inquired with a laugh. I nodded.

"He's been my lifeline since I signed my contract. I don't know where I'd be without him," I confessed, hanging a bulb on the tree. "He looks out for me, and I try to do the same for him, even though his family is all kinds of messed up."

"Has there been any new developments with his mother? I know you spoke to him earlier," Mom told me.

"There's no change."

"Poor guy must be beside himself," Mom commented. I nodded, hanging a candy cane.

"He is. Shane's really close to his mom."

"Tell me a bit about this Kurt guy. The guy you're having troubles with," Dad said. I sighed.

"Kurt gives me a bad feeling. He's one of those guys who will preach abstinence and purity and integrity, but he tries to get into the pants of every woman he thinks he has a shot with." I sighed. "He always seems to know my routes, and he latches onto me until Shane or Chris find me and get me away from him." I shook my head in disgust. "I swear, it's like he thinks that just because he has a gold medal, every woman is just going to fall at his feet."

"He really won a gold medal?" Dad asked. I nodded.

"Yeah, he won it at the '96 Olympics in Atlanta. Vince is making a huge deal about signing Kurt because he's the only gold medal wrestler that's gone pro. The guy is working all the marquee matches right now, so I'm kind of just hoping to back him off privately."

"You don't think Vince would do anything?"

"There's a hierarchy," I reminded them with a sigh. "Kurt will always draw more money than me, and at the end of the day, he's running a business. I mean, I think I get along with Vince, but I do get the feeling I'm on thin ice sometimes. Vince has been giving Shane a hard time lately about the fact that the two of us hang out together so much. Ever since the rumours made it to his ears, everything has just been brutal."

"For you?"

"Not so much for me, but for Shane." I stepped back and put my hands on my hips. My pyjamas are blue with white snowmen all over them. "Are you putting the angel or the star up top this year?"

"What do you think? You're the one home for Christmas," Dad pointed out.

"I think whoever designed the angel is a pervert," I blurted.

"Rinoa!" I shrugged at my mother.

"What? Why would you design something where you're shining a light under the skirt? Shouldn't the whole thing light up? I mean, that's a little pervy."

"She's got a point there," Dad laughed, "The star it is."

While Dad went to get the box with the star, I heard my cell phone ring. Moving past the boxes and spare silver garland, I picked it up off the end table and sat down on the love-seat, answering the phone before it went to voicemail. "Hello?"

"Hey, Noa."

"Shane?" Mom's eyes were suddenly on me.

"Were you expecting someone else?" he asked.

"No, no. Of course not! I just wasn't expecting you to call again tonight. How are you doing?"

"I'm all right. Just got back from the hospital. Dad's even got her visiting hours scheduled. I get an hour with her every day." I sighed, placing my head on my hand.

"Shane, that's awful." Dad walked back into the room. Mom mouthed to him that I was talking to Shane, and his mouth formed an "o". They were both watching me now, and I wanted to leave, but I couldn't find the willpower to get off the couch and take the conversation somewhere more private.

"She has the tree in her room now."

"How does it look?" I asked.

"Beautiful. I'll try and get a picture tomorrow while I'm there." I could hear his voice threatening to crack. I wished with everything I had inside of me that Shane could bring his mother home for Christmas, that the sedatives would wear off and she could get back to normal. I struggled to ignore the gaze of my parents and keep my focus on the phone call. "I can't believe Stephanie isn't there with you, Shane. I really can't."

"Stephanie is a Daddy's Girl, Noa. Don't be surprised if she publicly sides with him sooner rather than later, since he has all the money. I know that it sounds terrible, but that's the way it is."

"I wish there was something I could do, Shane. If you're at the World on New Years, I could bring you some of my mom's gingerbread cookies. They're super soft."

It sounded like such a stupid solution to such a huge problem, and I felt like an idiot for even suggesting it. I was relieved when Shane started laughing. It was music to my ears; I haven't heard him laugh like this in weeks. "That actually sounds great, Noa. I have to ask – how many have you had since you made it home?"

"Less than my body weight, but the holidays are still young." We shared a laugh.

"I'm sorry to harass you so much..."

"You aren't harassing me, Shane. Far from it. I wish you were here," I blurted. My parents cocked an eyebrow at that, and I clapped a hand to my forehead, feeling so unbelievably stupid for blurting that in front of them.

"I wish I was with you, too," he confessed. "I'll make sure I see you at the World."

"I'm sending all the best wishes your way."

"You, too. Goodnight, Noa."

"Goodnight, Shane." I hung up. We were all quiet for a few moments.

"You know what I think?" Mom asked. I groaned.

"Don't do this."

"I think likes you, too." I sighed.

"Mom, we're friends. That's it. Anything more than that, and I'm committing career suicide."

"We know. You've told us that at least four times tonight," Mom said, sitting down on the sofa. "Rinoa, honey, I'm going to tell you this once – if you two love each other and you make each other happy, there's nothing wrong with giving things a try."

"I'll get fired. I like my job. And if I do this, then everything I worked for evaporates. It becomes 'she slept with so and so to get here'. I busted my ass, Mom. I worked hard. Since I joined up with WWF, I've seen it happen with Hunter because of his relationship with Stephanie. Everyone who liked, respected and trusted him now look at him with suspicion. I just..." I ran a hand through my hair. "I don't think I'm strong enough to handle hearing those kinds of things about me."

"Do you hear them now?" Dad asked. I sighed.

"A bit, yeah."

"Then what's the difference if you are or you're not? Either way, people are talking," Dad said with a shrug.

"Dad..."

"Rinoa, you're in love with him." It was a flat statement, nothing accusatory about it. I sighed.

"It's so complicated." I watched Dad put the star on the tree.

"Life is complicated. But sometimes you have to take a shot. And if people don't like it, who cares? It's not their life," she told me. I stood and stretched.

"I think I'm going to turn in." I stood and stretched. They looked at me, but I scurried out of the room before they could say anything else. I didn't want to have this conversation anymore.

Walking into the middle of my bedroom, I fell face-first on the bed and groaned. I know it's obvious to everyone with a working set of eyes that there's something brewing between Shane and I, in spite of all of my denials. With a sigh, I rolled onto my back and stared up at the dark ceiling. Even in my deepest embarrassment, I found myself thinking about Shane, staying in Connecticut, sitting for an hour a day with his catatonic mother, wishing he could save her. It breaks my heart.


	26. Merry Christmas

Chapter 26: Merry Christmas

* * *

I tiptoed silently down the hall, aware of the sound my bare feet made as they stuck to the hardwood floor. It was still dark outside; too dark to see what was in front of me in the hallway. I moved carefully, trying not to brush against any frames or sideboards. My parent's room was at the other end of the hallway, just off the stairs. I approached carefully, pushing the door open slightly.

"Mom, Dad – I'm awake!" I announced.

I heard my mom groan, and she rolled away from my dad, looking at the alarm clock on the nightstand. "Jesus Christ, Rinoa, it's five in the morning. Go back to bed."

Not the response I expected. I motioned outward lamely. "But...I want to open presents now. I'm up."

"Not until seven, Rinoa. Jesus, what are you, six?" Dad grumbled, still half in the throes of sleep. "Go take a jog or something." My face crinkled into a pout.

"Fine. I will then." I closed the door behind me, turning and stubbing my toe on the sideboard. "Son of a bitch!" I huffed. I heard my mom bite back a giggle when she heard the thump and heard the pictures shake. Going back to my room, I got changed into my warmest sweatpants and a hooded sweatshirt.

I thought about Shane all night while I was waiting for Christmas to approach. I'd be so oblivious not to notice the way he looks at me sometimes, but I've spent the last few months telling myself not to read too much into things. That he does this with every other woman that comes into contact with him. But I'm lying. He doesn't act like this with anyone else. It's just me. Sometimes I feel like he stares at me as if I were the only woman in the universe, and those are the times where it's hard to meet his eyes, where I feel so scrutinized.

It's hard not to be disgusted with Vince for sedating his wife and going somewhere tropical with his mistress while his son struggles to pick up the pieces. I know better than to say anything to Vince's face, but I think about Trish, who is in too deep to get out on her own, and I wonder what kind of a marriage it is that Vince and Linda have. Vince should be ashamed of himself, but everything I've seen tells me that Vince lacks any sense of shame. I have every plan to call Shane later; I know that today is going to be a hard day for him, and I hope that the nurse softens on Christmas and at least gives him two hours with his mother.

While I jogged through Spokane, the sky faded from a rich cobalt to a pretty shade of sapphire. I stopped here and there to look at the local stores, taking a look in the windows at the prom and wedding dresses and books.

I finally returned at ten after seven, walking through the front door, thankful to be inside a warm house. Locking the door behind me, I decided to take a shower and get dressed before I tried again to wake up my parents. When I got out, I changed into a red and white Christmas sweater and blue jeans, leaving the bathroom while I tied my hair in a low bun.

"Come on, guys, wake up!" I shouted down the hallway.

"Rinoa..." Mom started, but Dad cut her off.

"It's seven-thirty, Cathy. She gave us an extra half-hour. Let her have this." I laughed and cheered, jumping up and down and clapping before I rushed down the stairs to put on a pot of coffee. They came down, still in their pyjamas, rubbing the sleep out of their eyes.

"Man, I hope Santa brought me a life this year!" I exclaimed, jumping up and down.

"I saw an IOU under the tree. I think you gotta wait until next year," Dad told me. I stopped jumping and pouted.

"He's not real, is he?"

"I need coffee," Mom mumbled, moving past me. She reached into the cupboard and pulled out three mugs. It was another couple minutes before the coffee was ready, but my mom was the first one in there, ready to take the hand of anyone who tried to get between her and the pot. When we were all armed with coffee, the three of us walked into the living room.

* * *

At nine-thirty, well past our presents being opened and our breakfast eaten, I helped Mom and Dad clean up the living room. It looked like a bomb made of wrapping paper had gone off. I jammed a bunch of shimmering pink snowflake paper into a garbage bag, startled when my cell phone started ringing.

Mom smiled. "I bet it's Shane."

I shook my head and answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Merry Christmas, Noa."

"Merry Christmas to you, too," I said, feeling a red-hot blush climb its way up my neck. I realized it had to be about noon on his coast. "How is your mom doing? Have you seen her at all today?"

"Yeah. I got to spend an hour and a half with her this morning. The nurse decided to have some Christmas spirit." He said the words almost bitterly.

"What are you doing tonight?" I asked.

"You're so sweet to worry. Rodney called this morning and invited me for dinner." Rodney and Shane are the best of friends, going back to high school. Along with Joey Abs and Pete Gas, they four of them used to hang out together and call themselves The Mean Street Posse. It's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard – four trust fund kids from the suburbs – but they have a great friendship. "I'm not alone."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"I found out today that Dad wants to teach Trish how to drug up my mom."

"What?" My eyes narrowed. "How did you find that out?"

"One of the nurses was telling me. She's not a fan of my father. I can't say I blame her." I put a hand to my forehead. "This whole situation is fucking ridiculous. Like, I don't even know what to do. As long as Dad keeps throwing money at that fucking place, they're going to do whatever he says." He sighed. "Enough about all of this, though, Noa. How was your Christmas morning? Did you get everything you wanted?"

"Not quite, but it was a good morning."

"I can't wait to see you, Noa."

"Me, too."

"I hate to cut this short, but I wanted to call and wish you a Merry Christmas. Enjoy your time with your family and I'll see you in a few days."

"I will, Shane. Keep your head up, and send my best wishes to your mom."

"I can do that." We said our goodbyes and hung up. I sighed. Looking up, I saw my parents look at me. "No. Not a word. Not. One. Word."


	27. Happy New Year

Chapter 27: New Year's Eve

* * *

I stood in front of the mirror attached to the desk in my hotel room and checked my reflection for what felt like the thousandth time. All day long, it felt like everything inside my suitcase wasn't good enough. The dress I was wearing was long, down to my ankles and navy blue. It had sparkling navy leaves embroidered under the bust, trimmed in gold and connected to a white flower in the middle. It was a halter dress, a beautiful gown, but it made me feel like I was overdressed. I pulled it off and threw it down on the bed with the pile of rejected clothing.

Spending New Year's Eve in New York, I can feel an electricity buzzing outside the window of my room. It's louder than usual, the streets packed and the chatter loud. I looked around the room, at my rumpled cream coloured bed and tall white walls. It's a warm room, far better than I expected for the price I was paying.

With a huff, I sat down at the foot of the bed, on the pile of rejected clothing. I looked up at my exasperated reflection in the mirror and huffed, blowing a strand of hair out of my face. I knew why I was so nervous; it was because Shane was going to be there, and it's the first time I've seen him since the Raw after _Armageddon_. The last couple phone conversations we've had...it feels like things are going to come to a head, and I'm not sure which direction it's going to go. Everything is so complicated.

Looking through the clothing left in my exploded suitcase, I settled on a pair of tight, form-fitting dark blue jeans, a V-neck zebra print shirt and a black blazer. It wasn't a perfect ensemble by any stretch of the imagination, but it was going to have to do; I had to accept that there was going to be nothing in my suitcase that I was going to find good enough to wear. On any other night, it would have sufficed, but not tonight.

After I was dressed, it took two attempts to do my makeup, and even longer to try and figure out a hairstyle. I ended up throwing my hair back into a high ponytail, brushing my bangs to the side. Looking at myself in the mirror once more, I decided it was time to leave before the little voice in the back of my head started second-guessing things once more. I slid on a pair of boots and grabbed my keys, leaving the hotel room without looking back.

* * *

The World was in full swing when I arrived. I'm only scheduled from nine to eleven; after that Big Show and Jackie are coming in to ring in the new year with the fans. I had no idea what my plans were after the show, but I toyed with the idea of staying later and just ringing in New Years at The World.

I entered through the back, where people were running around. The atmosphere backstage was pure chaos. I was quickly handed a microphone by one of the employees, a young kid with ruffled brown hair and bright grey eyes. His name tag read MATT. He ushered me up the steps towards the curtain, where Lilian Garcia was speaking to the crowd, working overtime as a hype woman.

"All right, everyone, I've just received word...here to spend part of her New Year with you...ladies and gentlemen – Rinoa!"

I heard my music start and the crowd was pretty hot. I walked out, waving to everyone. I spotted a few kids looking absolutely starstruck less than six feet from the stage. I waved to them, and one of them, a little girl of about six, looked so stricken I thought she might faint. I stood in the middle of the stage beside Lilian, waiting for the music to silence and the crowd to quiet down. It was a few moments before I could speak.

"Wow. You guys are amazing." The crowd roared again. "Happy New Year, everyone!"

The fans shouted their approval, raising their glasses. A few people applauded. "Now, I'm not the only one here tonight. Shane O'Mac, where are you at?"

There was a buzz, and everyone started looking around. My eyes scanning my surroundings, I spotted Shane behind the bar, talking to the bartender. When he heard his name, he looked over at me, a wide smile splitting his face. I smiled back at him. "I'm going to be making the rounds tonight, guys, so keep your eyes out. Who's ready to ring in the New Year with Disturbed?" I asked. The crowd roared. "They are an absolutely killer band, aren't they? The Sickness hasn't left my CD player since it dropped." With another promise that I would be getting up close and personal, my music played and I walked offstage with Lilian, leaving my microphone on a trunk in the back.

* * *

Eric and Alicia Willis from Long Beach, California, came to New York to see The World. They brought their two kids, Kelly and Jacob with them. The whole family was ecstatic when I approached and asked if I could have dinner with them. Eric was an attractive guy, with brown hair cut like a politician's, dressed in a Just Bring It T-shirt. Alicia was a demure brunette, wearing a little black dress for her night out. He worked in advertising and she worked in real estate. The kids were huge fans. Kelly loved Lita and Jacob really liked Chris. While we ate, Eric gushed about following me in WCW and dropped the bombshell that they had seen me on the indie scene years ago, before I went to Japan.

 _We talked about everything under the sun, and after the meal was over, I signed autographs and took pictures with the whole family. I shook hands with all of them and thanked them sincerely for their continued support. After I left them, I went to make the rounds to other tables, but I was approached in the middle of the floor by a group of male fans who wanted a picture. I happily obliged._

I was startled by a hand on the base of my spine. Turning my head to the left, I saw Shane take his place behind me. "Hey, everyone – is there room for one more?" he asked. Of course, there was. Shane turned his head so his mouth was close to my ear. "Hey, Noa. You look great," he said softly. I shot him a smile, fighting the urge to shiver against him; his breath was that close, on my neck and on my ear. He was dressed in a dark blue button-down shirt and black slacks. I wondered if he was capable of wearing anything remotely casual.

"You clean up pretty nicely yourself," I told him. I was momentarily stunned when the flash of the camera went off, momentarily leaving me blind. Shane and I shook hands with the group before we went to make the rounds with some more fans. Shane followed me this time.

"Your work is never done, is it?" I asked. He shook his head.

"No. Dad wanted me to do some end of year counts on some stuff." We posed for pictures and signed a couple autographs. "What are you up to tonight?" he asked when we were free of the group. I shrugged.

"No real plans. I might just stay late so I don't ring in New Years alone. Why?"

"No reason. I'm heading to Times Square, and I thought...I don't know...I do it every year. If you're interested, we could go get a coffee and watch the ball drop together." I shot him a look, surprised.

"I think that sounds lovely." Shane looked surprised that I accepted the invitation. "Meet you backstage after the show?" He nodded and we separated, signing autographs until our wrists cramped and taking photos until our eyes hurt and our cheeks burned. Every now and then we would cross paths and exchange looks, and we both knew that despite everything, this was where we belonged, in this business, with these people.

* * *

I was backstage at eleven on the button when Show and Jackie arrived. Jackie was surprised when Shane walked into the backstage area, her brown eyes narrowing at the two of us with suspicion. "What are you doing here?" she asked. Shane shot her a look as if she grew two heads out of her shoulders.

"I live here."

"Yeah, but you've been in Stamford," Show told him.

"Yeah. But Dad wanted me to go over some end of the year stuff here."

"How is your mom doing?" Show asked. Shane's face darkened.

"There's been no change. Dad's seen to that." I shot a sympathetic look at him. Chris always warned me that the McMahon family was dysfunctional, but I had no idea just how deep it ran until I saw this situation unfold. Out of the four of them, it felt like Shane was the most normal, the only one who seemed really committed to doing the right thing.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Show told him. Jackie nodded. "I hope everything works out."

"Thank you."

"We've got to head out there. Have a Happy New Year, you two." Jackie was still eyeing me suspiciously.

"Thank you," I told her. We watched the two of them disappear through the curtain before we left together. Stepping out through the back door, we were both greeted with soft snowfall and a thin sheet of white on the ground. Shane turned to me, his eyebrow arching.

"Is that the only jacket you brought?" he asked.

"I'm fine," I assured him.

 _"The hell you are. You'll catch your death, Noa." He led me to his car parked against the sidewalk. He opened the back passenger's door and reached in, retrieving his suit jacket. He handed it to me. "Put this on. This is the east coast – you'll catch pneumonia."_

"What about you?"

"What about me? Quit arguing and put it on," he chastised. Shaking my head, I slid it over my shoulders. It was huge on me.

"You could almost fit in here with me," I blurted. I instantly felt embarrassed for saying such a thing, but Shane looked amused. Together, the two of us made our way towards the centre of Times Square, navigating through the hordes of people on the sidewalk like we'd done it a million times before.

"How was your flight?" he asked.

"It was all right. Long with that big delay." He stopped, and I realized that we had reached the coffee shop. Opening the door, he shot me a smile and cocked his head for me to go inside. I thanked him for being a gentleman as I walked into the warm shop, rubbing my hands together with the intention of warming them up before I head back outside. He asked what I wanted and ordered. When I went to give him money for my drink, he refused. We left the coffee shop with hot drinks in our hands, enjoying the warmth of the cup against the cold winds against our exposed skin.

"It's incredible. This play always seems so busy," I observed.

"It's the City That Never Sleeps."

"I could see why you live here when you put it like that," I teased. Shane grinned.

"I love it here. I've always been a big city guy." I sipped my coffee. We fell silent as we continued to walk. "Thank you for coming out with me tonight. I didn't really want to spend New Years alone. Plus, it's been kind of a rough week, between everything with work and Mom." He shook his head. "I hate Dad so much for what he's done to her."

I looked at him. There was something in his tone that struck me odd. "Shane, what are you planning?" I asked.

"I don't know," he admitted with a shrug. "I just...something has to be done here. Dad has gone unchecked for way too long. Someone has to do something." I nodded; he was right. I smiled.

"How about we leave your dad out of the picture tonight? Let's just have a nice New Years. I've never spent a New Years in New York before." He looked at me, into my eyes. I flashed him a smile that I hoped was comforting, but every nerve in my body was vibrating. After a moment, he smiled, too.

"You know what, Noa? That sounds like an amazing idea." We drank our coffee and continued to walk, coming to a stop on the street corner, staring up at the giant ball. I was awestruck at it. Shane looked over at me. "Have you ever seen this before?"

"Only on TV."

"I'm glad you're here," he told me.

"I am, too."

* * *

"Ten...nine...eight..."

I could feel Shane watching me intently, taking in every reaction I had to my environment, the awe on my face. The bright lights of New York were so beautiful against the pitch black backdrop. I loved the way the stars sparkled like diamonds in the sky, the way that the snow seemed to shimmer on the ground. For the past fifteen minutes, the snowfall has gotten heavier, but Shane and I seemed to be ignoring it.

"Seven...six...five..."

Every part of me wanted to believe that 2001 will be better than 2000. It's been one of the best years of my life, but I know there's so much higher to climb, so much more to do. I hoped my life would really fall into place next year, that Linda would get better and Vince would get his just desserts for the way he's treated his wife, his kids, Trish. I hoped that Trish found the courage next year to get away from Vince, to blaze her own trail and do her own thing. I also hoped Kurt Angle would find himself a girlfriend so he would get out of my hair.

"Four...three...two..."

I looked over at Shane, who was counting down the numbers with the crowd. His arm slipped around my waist, pulling me closer to him. His touch seemed to set me on fire; I forgot about the cold. I thought about where I was this time last year, miserable and wasting away in WCW, where I was having trouble with just about everyone, and all my friends were in the WWF. One year later, I'm with them, and everything seems to be looking up.

"One – Happy New Year!"

The crowd cheered and began to sing. Some people kissed the ones they were with. I turned into Shane's arms and hugged him tightly. "Happy New Year, Boy Wonder," I said in his ear. His arms were so tight around my waist as if he never wanted to let me go.

Pulling away from him, he kept his arms around my waist. I honestly didn't want him to move them. I looked at him, and he stared at me for a moment, as if he were wrestling with the thoughts inside his head. "Shane, I..."

His lips captured mine, and it felt like every nerve inside my body ignited. My body jolted, and I found myself holding onto his shirt to keep myself standing. It was a short kiss, but it felt like the entire world had fallen away like we were the only two people in it.

He pulled away from me, taking in the shock and surprise on my face. I put my hand to my lips, wondering if it really happened or if I had dreamed the entire thing, but his smile told me that it was real.


End file.
